


The Hinata Days

by crackerjackermackeral



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Twins, Brothers, Comedy, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru Are Twins, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru Are Siblings, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru are Separate People, Humor, Kamukura Izuru Has Feelings, Kamukura Izuru Is A Weirdo, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito Is Obsessed With Hope, Light-Hearted, Male-Female Friendship, No Plot/Plotless, No Romance, Slice of Life, Tired Hinata Hajime, Tsundere Hinata Hajime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackerjackermackeral/pseuds/crackerjackermackeral
Summary: As someone painfully boring and average, Hajime would have had an inferiority complex when standing next to his remarkably talented brother...had said brother knew how to function like a human being. Instead of angsting about his inconsequential existence like how any proper teenager would, Hajime was too busy nagging at Izuru to get out of bed.In which Hajime is unofficially the Ultimate Mother, Izuru is a clingy brocon, and everyone wonders what the hell is up with the Hinata twins.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru
Comments: 210
Kudos: 975





	1. Prologue

Izuru didn't receive a letter of acceptance from Hope's Peak Academy. He got a personal visit from a representative.

"Because of your numerous glowing achievements, we would like to admit you as the Ultimate Hope," the representative said after his preamble of the school. As if anyone _needed_ such a thing. Someone would have to be living under a rock to not know what Hope's Peak Academy was. Although, if Izuru had his way, that could be possible. 

The man smiled, his eyes glimmering with expectation as he turned his attention to their parents. "As you must already know, every one of our graduates lead successful lives and have become important members of society. With your son's overwhelming talent, he could be so much more. We, the staff of Hope's Peak Academy, wish to cultivate his abilities and have him become the best that he can be."

Rather than excitedly taking the offer on Izuru's behalf like how every parent would, their mother and father traded glances before looking at Izuru.

Izuru looked at Hajime.

"No," Hajime said.

Izuru looked back at the representative. "Then no."

Hajime threw his arms in the air.

After their parents had explained to the baffled man about how the Hinata twins were an all-or-nothing deal, the representative stopped looking at Izuru as though he was a god among men and more as though he was a space alien. He probably was. Hajime had often speculated that a bunch of aliens had abducted his real brother shortly after birth and had replaced him with a cryptid. That would explain so much.

The representative then pulled himself together and coughed into his fist. "Yes, well." A pause. "We do have the Reserve Course Department."

Apparently, Hope's Peak Academy had a division where untalented students could attend after paying a fee—and a hefty fee that it was. As their parents' eyes had popped out of their sockets at the long string of zeros that the representative had written down for them, Hajime watched with dread as Izuru calmly pulled a check from his pocket and delicately placed it on the coffee table. 

"I'll be cashing in that prize money," Izuru said.

Of course the bastard had been prepared for this. He had known that this was going to happen.

"Wait, when did you buy a lottery ticket?" their dad asked.

With the issue of money out of the way, the only problem they had to face was convincing Hajime. Hajime, of course, wasn't going down without a fight. And so ensued the battle of willpower: Would Hajime concede and join Izuru to Hope's Peak? Or would Hajime stand his ground, not letting Izuru have his way? Their parents insisted (begged) that he would go; otherwise, Izuru wouldn't. The representative tried to sweeten the deal by giving them a two percent discount. Hajime, however, was nothing if not stubborn.

And then Hajime entered the boss level. Izuru smoothly interjected with his own argument, effectively lowering his HP. Hajime gritted his teeth and launched his own attack, a series of "No," "Don't care," and "I said no!" He then erected a shield of pure pigheadedness when Izuru retaliated. It was at that moment that Hajime thought he could see that shining light of hope. He knew that he had no way of beating Izuru in terms of persuasion or logic, but he could at least hold out on his own this way.

That was until Izuru decided to use his trump card.

"If you don't go, I'll use _that_."

Hajime narrowed his eyes. "You don't mean..."

"Yes."

"No."

"I swear I will. Would you like to test me, brother?"

"You—you promised that you wouldn't!"

"Desperate times, desperate measures."

Hajime couldn't believe this. The fiend was blackmailing him!

As their parents and the representative watched them in puzzlement, Hajime gripped his knees as a means of holding onto something, debating on what to do. Izuru had always carried through his threats, so he knew that his brother wasn't bluffing. But Hajime knew—or, at least, he thought he knew—that this was his final strike. If Hajime overcame that, then he would win. But... But was it worth the cost of his manly pride? Could he bring himself to look at anyone in the eye after having _that_ divulged to the public?

No... No, he could not.

And with that, Hajime, with great reluctance and a baleful glower, backed down and complied.

By next spring, the Hinata twins would be attending Hope's Peak Academy.


	2. Hajime's Days 1

"Your cooking is substandard as usual."

Hajime had long ago stopped reacting to such remarks, not even bothering with a response of "Then cook your own friggin meals." Izuru would just take it as an excuse to languish in his own laziness— _somehow_. Izuru had once explained this to Hajime, but Hajime's puny brain couldn't comprehend the sheer brilliance of his brother's scheme, apparently.

But if Hajime got it right, then it had something to do with how if Izuru was made responsible for his own meals, then he was the one who determined his obligation to make said meals; and if he decided that he wasn't obligated to cook, then he wasn't obligated to eat. Therefore, he wasn't obligated to do anything at all, allowing him to hibernate in his bed.

Izuru had said that would be him playing some real 4D chess, and Hajime had responded by dragging him by the ear out from under the covers.

Besides, if Hajime's cooking really was that bad, then why did Izuru opt to eat what he made as opposed to what other people made? Izuru couldn't even be bothered eating take-out. Once upon a time, he had eaten what their mother had prepared for them, but she had surrendered the cooking role to Hajime after getting a job years ago. Now that both brothers had moved out of the household, Hajime wondered if their parents would subsist on take-out now.

When Izuru finished eating and Hajime finished packing their bento, Hajime pushed him into helping him wash the dishes before anyone else arrived. It was early in the morning, but it was the first day of school; with the first day came nervous excitement, not to mention an eagerness in making a good first impression and meeting new classmates. As a result, students filtered in the communal kitchen, making use of the microwave and coffee machine. 

Of course, because this was the Reserve Course dormitory, everyone stopped and stared at the misplaced Main Course student. 

Hajime dried the last plate and put it away. He then grabbed their bags and ushered Izuru down the hall. "Time to go."

"Shouldn't we introduce ourselves to your dorm mates?"

"No."

Izuru looked over his shoulder to face a passing student. "Hi, I'm Hinata Izuru, the Ultimate Hope. This is Hinata Hajime, my housewife."

Hajime smacked him.

The way that Izuru had said it so monotonously creeped Hajime out. Putting aside that Izuru doing anything outwardly cheerfully was just as creepy if not more so, if Izuru kept this up, he was going to breed a whole lot of misunderstandings—just like how he had done back in middle school. Hajime _did not_ want a repeat of middle school, especially not on the first day. This was why he got up so early; it was to ensure that Izuru had limited interactions with others.

Which wasn't a viable plan for the long term, this he knew. After all, if Izuru intended on staying with him, which he apparently was, then his brother was going to inevitably run into the very people who Hajime was going to live with for the next three years. And it wasn't as though Hajime could convince Izuru to try to act normal; Izuru would deliberately amp up the weirdness just to vex him, even at the expense of his own reputation (not that Izuru cared about such a thing). 

Still, that didn't mean that Hajime couldn't salvage this however he could. Or, hell, slow down the process. Let him savor what ounce of normalcy that he could get, damn it.

"Haha, he's kidding!" Hajime forced a laugh. "What a joker. He's actually my brother."

"And your husbando," Izuru tacked on.

"Stop it."

Once they were out, Hajime roughly shoved Izuru's bag into his chest and released a groan. "Must you really?"

"I just want to flaunt our marital status to everyone."

"Seriously, stop."

Since they had time to spare, Hajime figured that they could take a walk around the campus before their respective orientation assemblies began. Since Reserves weren't permitted to venture on the Main Course grounds, they had to settle for Hope's Peak's side division. It certainly wasn't as glamorous as how the main building did from afar, but it was still Hope's Peak—pristine and immaculate, fitting for Japan's top school.

Thinking about it, Hajime thought that maybe it was for the better that he wasn't allowed there. If he had been, Izuru would have forced him to move into his dorm, which would lead to Hajime being traduced in front of a bunch of Ultimates. 

Hajime doubted that any of their former classmates would forget someone as...special as Izuru, so they certainly wouldn't forget about Hajime as a consequence. And as much as Hajime would love to take this opportunity of him and Izuru being in different classes in different buildings to fade away into the background, he wasn't so much of a naive optimist to believe that his brother wouldn't pull anything.

As Izuru's babysitter, Hajime didn't get the luxury of not getting involved.

Thus, it was better to be remembered by the Reserves than it was by the Ultimates. These Ultimates were going places after graduation, and Hajime would probably shrivel up and die if, say, the future prime minister or a famous rock star would remember him as "that one guy." 

"Hey, there!" Hajime turned around to see a pair of girls walking towards them. What caught his interest was how one was donning a black uniform while the other a brown uniform. Huh. He didn't think that he would get to see another Reserve and Main Course pair like him and Izuru. The girls had thought so too as they commented on such. 

"Must be hard being kept apart," Hajime commented after learning that the girls were friends.

"Well, as long as I'm able to see Sato-chan, it's fine. Although, I do think that it's kind of silly how they're dividing us like this," the Main Course girl said. "I know that we're studying different things, but there's no need for the separation."

"Ah, it's alright!" the Reserve girl insisted with a smile. "I'm just glad that we get to go to high school together."

"Have you two been friends for long?" Hajime inquired curiously.

"Since middle school. We promised each other that we'd stay together even up to college," the Reserve girl answered brightly. 

"Although, that plan ended up being a bit more complicated ever since I got my letter from Hope's Peak Academy," the Main Course girl said, crossing her arms. There was an undercurrent of guilt in her voice as she told him this. "Sato-chan supported me into going, but she also wanted us to keep our promise. That's why she had to pay this massive tuition to come here." 

"This again?" The Reserve girl shook her head. "Don't be like that, Mahiru-chan. I already told you that it's fine. Besides, being a student at Hope's Peak means that I'll have a prospective future even as a Reserve Course student." She then turned her attention to Hajime. "It must be the same for you, right?"

About the prospective future part or him being here for Izuru? The former might not mean anything to him as far as he was concerned, and the latter had been a result of blackmail. Nevertheless, Hajime plastered on a smile and said, "Yeah, definitely."

"Oh, we never got to introduce ourselves. I'm Yamamoto Sato. We might end up being classmates this year."

"I'm Koizumi Mahiru. I've been admitted as the Ultimate Photographer," the Main Course girl chimed in. She glanced at Izuru. "We might be classmates too."

Hajime figured as much, seeing the camera hanging from her neck. He briefly wondered what liberties the Ultimate students could take if it pertained to their talent. Would the Ultimate Cosplayer be allowed to cosplay all day? "Nice to meet you. I'm—" Before Hajime could finish his introduction, Izuru cut in with his own.

"I'm Hinata Izuru, the Ultimate Hope. This is Hinata Hajime, my housewife."

"Quit telling people that!" Hajime cried out.

The girls' eyes widened. 

"Ultimate Hope?" Yamamoto parroted. 

"Housewife?" Koizumi repeated incredulously.

"He's joking! He's my brother!" Hajime insisted.

"In my heart, I'm not," Izuru deadpanned.

The girls traded looks. "Is this the infamous brotherly love I've heard so much about?" Yamamoto mumbled to herself, but Hajime heard it clear as day.

"No, we are not like that," he interjected, desperately emphasizing the negation. 

"Why so frantic when we've been at this for years, Hajime?" Izuru said as he examined his fingernails. "You should know better by now."

Hajime scowled. "Because the last time I've resigned myself to your jokes, people ended up taking it seriously." Which was true. There had been a point in his life where Hajime had decided to screw it and not give a damn anymore. While he had continued to contradict Izuru's outlandish claims, he had done so halfheartedly. For some bizarre reason, people had interpreted this as him being a tsundere, which had somehow led them to take Izuru's word for it.

 _That_ had been a mistake—one that Hajime didn't want to make again. 

"Oh." Koizumi frowned. "He just has a bad sense of humor. I get it."

Hajime's shoulders dropped in relief. Oh, thank goodness. 

"I don't get boys and their tasteless jokes, but I think you should quit it while you're at it," she continued, wagging a finger. This time, Hajime and Izuru were the ones trading looks. Was...Izuru getting a lecture? One that wasn't coming from Hajime? "It's not really funny and you'll end up confusing a lot of people."

"Then how will I exercise my talent in bullshitting?" Izuru said.

Koizumi's finger wilted. "What?"

"Wait, didn't you say that you're the Ultimate Hope?" Yamamoto's brows furrowed. "Unless...you were lying about that?"

"No, I really am the Ultimate Hope." A stretch of silence followed. The girls peered at him expectantly, but when Izuru didn't say anything else, they focused their attention onto Hajime. 

Hajime sighed. "It means that—"

"I can do almost anything," Izuru punctuated.

Ah, he wanted to play the twins shtick again. Wouldn't last long, though.

"Anything?" Koizumi appeared doubtful. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can say that I'm the Ultimate Talented Student. The Ultimate Ultimate. The Ultimate—"

"He's just more talented than the average guy," Hajime informed them blandly.

"I had no idea that such a person existed." Yamamoto, in contrast to Koizumi's belief, appraised Izuru with keen interest. "What exactly can you do?"

"Athleticism, art, math, science," Izuru said brusquely. Great, he was already bored. 

The girls looked at Hajime again. "When we were kids, Izuru took a cognitive assessment. As it turned out, his IQ was off the charts and he had a photographic memory. Not only is he insanely smart, but he's also really good at sports. Just last year, he joined every sports team in our school and brought them to the championships." Izuru could have taken them further, but he hadn't wanted to stick around for any longer. 

"What? That's crazy," Koizumi balked.

"He also won a lot of competitions—" that Hajime had made him enter to distract him "—which was what got him noticed by Hope's Peak, I think."

"What kind of competitions?" Yamamoto pressed.

"Well, there was one where he had to cook for a panel of judges. And there were a bunch where he played an instrument in front of an audience. Flute, piano, violin, guitar, saxophone, uh... Bagpipes, harp... Basically, every instrument." Hajime paused to consider what other contests he should bring up. "There were painting, dancing, trivia... He once participated in a writing competition for young adults, and his submitted piece ended up beating this well-known author's story. You might recognize one of her works; she wrote that one romance novel about a fisherman..." 

"'So Lingers the Ocean'?" both girls gasped in tandem. 

"I loved that book!" Yamamoto exclaimed. "I read it three times!"

"You're telling me that this guy—" Koizumi pointed at Izuru "—managed to beat her?"

Hajime nodded. 

"Did this competition have, like, a genre requirement? I can't imagine him writing romance." And then she added, "No offense."

"No, but, um, he did write a love story."

"I was told to try something challenging," Izuru deigned to say, "but it wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be."

"Okay, now I want to read what won against an author like that."

"Wow, you've done a lot!" Yamamoto marveled. "I wonder why I never heard about you."

"He usually used pseudonyms, and yet Hope's Peak somehow managed to figure that Izuku, Izura, and Iruku were all Izuru," Hajime said dryly.

"I can see why you described yourself as 'almost' capable of anything," Koizumi chuckled. 

"I'm human, not a talent machine," Izuru drawled, "but I'll eventually ascend to my higher form of being after graduation."

"You said that you're the Ultimate Hope. What does being multi-talented have to do with hope?" Yamamoto wondered, tilting her head. 

"According to the academy, they think that Izuru could help spread hope by acting as some kind of paragon for others to aspire to," Hajime explained. "There's also the belief that he could use his talents to help better humanity."

"And one of those talents is...bullshitting?" Koizumi said. "How is that remotely hopeful?"

Izuru shrugged. "A misnomer."

"Well, you're not very good at it. I'll admit, it caught me off guard, but it wasn't so hard to see that you were just messing around."

"Trust me, Izuru wasn't even trying," Hajime spoke, haunted.

"O-okay..."

"Seems like you've had it hard," Yamamoto noted, smiling pityingly at Hajime. Hajime wasn't sure if she was referring to Izuru being a pain in the ass or how he was a pale comparison to his twin, but Hajime took whatever he could get. For the first part, that was. Hajime didn't have the time to worry about his inconsequential existence when he was too busy nagging at Izuru to get out of bed.

From this encounter, Hajime could already infer that the girls thought that Izuru was a weirdo, but they at least didn't think of Hajime as one by extension. Regardless, they didn't view Izuru unfavorably—so far. _So far_ , Izuru was a person of many idiosyncrasies in their eyes. An interesting guy. It would be nice if they weren't going to end up as classmates, or at least for Koizumi and Izuru to not share a class. That way, they would have two acquaintances who wouldn't be too exposed to Izuru's Izuruness. 

"By the way, we're going to be classmates," Izuru said. Damn it. 

Koizumi blinked. "Huh? How do you know?"

"You're placed in Class 77-B."

"Yeah, that's—wait a second! I never told you that!"

"Now you did."

She reeled back. "Did—did you just...?"

"Did I? Or did I use my psychic ability?"

"What?"

"What?" Yamamoto echoed. 

"He's bullshitting again," Hajime said.

Koizumi frowned, unimpressed. "You know what? I think we can also add Ultimate Nuisance in your repertoire."

Well, Hajime thought, at least this one was catching on fast. 


	3. Hajime's Days 2

"So... Hinata and Hinata. Hm. That'll be confusing." Koizumi frowned. 

"You could use our given names," Hajime suggested.

"No thanks," came the swift rejection. "I'm not going to act so familiarly with two guys who I barely know."

"I'm not one to use formalities with guys myself, but how about we call them Hinata-san and Hinata-kun?" Yamamoto said.

Well, that was better than Hinata 1 and Hinata 2, Hinata A and Hinata B, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum...

"I guess we have no other choice." Koizumi then smirked. "It's only proper that we address the housewife as Hinata-san, don't you think?"

"Didn't you say that was a tasteless joke?" Hajime deadpanned. 

The four ended up conversing longer than expected, and, before they knew it, they had a handful of minutes before they had to go on their separate ways. As expected, Izuru threw a tantrum about it—as far as Izuru could throw one. Koizumi and Yamamoto thought that Izuru was just sulking, and Koizumi had to forcefully drag Izuru away all the while subjecting him to another lecture. 

"Well," Yamamoto began, "time to go—huh? Hinata-san? Why are you crying...?"

"It's just... It's just too glorious." Hajime wiped a tear. "I wish I have a camera."

Orientation wasn't anything special. Just a basic speech about the school and having hope and looking towards the future. Hajime wondered if there was something wrong if him when he noticed that the speaker had captured everyone's attention, spellbinding them to cling to his every word. Yamamoto herself was leaning forward with glittering eyes. 

Maybe hearing his parents' one too many motivational speeches had desensitized him. 

When that was over, everyone was sent away to go to their respective classes. As it turned out, Yamamoto and he shared the same homeroom, much to their relief and delight, so they walked together. During the way, Hajime listened to the girl enthuse about how great it was being here and how she was excited to start the day. For her sake, Hajime hoped that the Reserve Course classes would live up to her expectations. Selfishly, though, he hoped to experience a quiet and routine class schedule. 

He would probably get that much until Izuru would inevitably storm here for break.

* * *

"Want to go get a drink with me?" 

"Sure." Hajime stood up from his seat and followed Yamamoto out the door, only to be tackled with a hug. Izuru buried his face into Hajime's shoulder and expelled a breath. 

"Izuru, it's only been a few hours."

"Still too long," his brother mumbled, nuzzling his neck.

Hajime slapped a hand on Izuru's forehead and shoved him, prying him off. "Stop."

"I need to be recharged."

"No."

After enduring Izuru's clinging and pointedly ignoring the stares that they received from the students and staff, the bell eventually rang. Hajime sent Izuru away, who dragged his feet with a noticeable cloud of dejection.

Yamamoto gave him a strange look. "Are you sure that you two aren't...?"

" _No_."

* * *

When lunchtime rolled around, Izuru arrived just as expected, but he wasn't alone. It was no surprise to see Koizumi with him, but who was this other kid accompanying them?

"As someone as worthless as myself, I shouldn't be so presumptuous to think that I could eat with my amazing classmates," the stranger, a Main Course student, said, sounding oddly elated and irreverent despite the self-deprecation. Hajime arched an eyebrow at that. "But I couldn't help myself upon finding out that I was sharing a class with _the Ultimate Hope_!"

As the guy continued to wax poetry about how much of a human garbage that he was, Hajime looked at Izuru in question.

"It's because Koizumi blabbed about my talent," Izuru groused quietly to Hajime.

Koizumi, however, heard him. "Hey, if you didn't want others to know about it, then why tell me and Sato-chan in the first place?" she snapped.

"Ah, but to think that the symbols of hope would bother to grace themselves before scum." As though flipping a switch, the stranger's tone shifted to condescension as he eyed both Yamamoto and Hajime with open disdain. Hajime reeled back at that. "Lowly Reserve students aren't fit to dine with remarkable people."

Yamamoto, who Hajime had believed to be a cheerful and laidback girl, flushed hotly as she glared daggers at the boy and clenched her fists. He was shocked when he heard her snarl, "What did you say, bastard?"

"Komaeda, we talked about this!" Koizumi said angrily. "If you want to eat with us, then you have to be nice to our friends!"

"Of course," he replied pleasantly, offering her a sunny smile. The boy was able to switch up his moods so fast that he was giving Hajime a whiplash. "If you Ultimates desire to stoop yourselves to mingle with boring people, then I dare hope that you'll continue to do the same with me!"

"Oh gosh," Yamamoto said, "we have to eat with _him_?"

"Koizumi's fault," Izuru said in lieu of an answer.

After several minutes of bickering, Hajime managed to herd everyone outside. As they walked over to the fountain outside of the building, Koizumi had the Main Course boy introduce himself. He was Komaeda Nagito, the Ultimate Lucky Student. 

"Every year, every ordinary student in the country gets a chance to attend the academy through a lottery system, granting him or her title as the Ultimate Lucky Student," Komaeda explained. "This year, my name happened to be drawn."

"So you're just as average as me and Hinata-san!" Yamamoto growled, pointing accusingly at him. "Then why the hell were you talking down on us, you hypocrite?"

"Oh, I know that I'm average. I'm basic, boring, and bland. I'm an existence so insignificant that I don't even deserve to live—!"

"He thinks that Reserves are leeching off of Hope's Peak because they paid their way to get here," Izuru cut in. 

Komaeda gasped. "As expected of the Ultimate Hope! To know precisely what I'm thinking!"

"You were the one who told me..."

Hajime didn't know what to make out of that. He supposed that, in a way, that was true. The school was expanding its resources to educate the Reserves instead of primarily focusing on the Main Course students. However, in that case, Hajime doubted that the Reserves served to be that much of an inconvenience. 

By paying a huge fee, these so-called leeches were essentially funding Hope's Peak alongside the government. With that many zeroes, there was no way all that money went towards the Reserve Course Department. Izuru had figured as much when he had disclosed his theory about how the faculty was likely using the money for a huge project. Hajime admittedly didn't care, but he did feel bad for Yamamoto and his classmates for being duped into thinking that the school cared about them. 

"Just so you know, I won't stand any offenses made towards my wife," Izuru declared with his dead fish eyes. "I'll defend his honor."

"Overusing a joke is like beating a dead horse," Koizumi stated flatly. "Let it go."

"Who says that it's a joke?" Izuru countered. 

"It's a joke," Hajime confirmed emphatically.

Komaeda blinked. "Wife?"

"A joke."

* * *

When the first day finally ended, Yamamoto and Hajime met up with Koizumi and Izuru in front of the Reserve Course gates. Because Koizumi and Yamamoto lived nearby, they parted ways with the brothers after an amiable farewell. 

Hajime absentmindedly wrangled himself out of Izuru's clutches as they walked back to the dorms. It was the first day and already did they receive a mountain of homework. Well, the Reserves did, in any case. According to Koizumi and Izuru, the Ultimates didn't have a standard classroom setting, meaning that they weren't given lesson plans or assignments. Hell, class wasn't even mandatory as long as they worked on their talents. Yamamoto and Hajime had groaned at the injustice.

"Apparently, in order to live up to Hope's Peak's standards, the Reserve curriculum is going to be more rigorous than the general high school's," Hajime had grieved. 

"I predict that you'll wear yourself thin," Izuru had said. "Just flunk."

"No." Hinata Hajime was no flunkie. 

Komaeda hadn't been sympathetic to the hardships that the Reserves had been subjected to either, but he at least had kept his word in not saying anything demeaning to them. Nevertheless, lunch had been...quite something. Yamamoto hadn't been so conspicuous in hinting for them to ditch Komaeda, and Hajime honestly couldn't bring himself to disagree. Komaeda had been a prick. 

Hajime sincerely hoped that Komaeda wouldn't show up again tomorrow, but, well, who knew what would happen? 

After bribing Izuru with kusamochi, Hajime got him to help him with tonight's homework. Not to cheat, of course, but Hajime would be damned if he had to spend hours trying to solve a problem that the teacher hadn't properly gone over.

One hour of studying and Hajime finally spared his brother. Izuru retreated under the covers and buried himself deeply like the mole rat that he was. Hajime pushed himself onto his feet and stretched his arms to the ceiling. A cursory glance at the clock told him he ought to make a quick run to the student market and buy that kusamochi that he had promised. He slipped on a hoodie and pocketed his ID, wallet, and keys; he then grabbed a tote bag and slotted it underneath his armpit.

"I'll be back," he told Izuru before closing the door.

On his way out, Hajime waved at a few of his dorm mates with who he shared classes. A few minutes after the bell rang for the end of break, they had approached him and had asked him about Izuru. Hajime had taken the opportunity to tell them how much of a pure, shy boy Izuru was and how that had made him socially awkward. He had felt Yamamoto's stare burning at the back of his head, but he hadn't missed a beat as he continued to talk out of his ass. 

He had also punctuated it all with how Izuru would try to conceal his timidity by telling awful jokes, which, Hajime had been quick to reinforce, had been due to his social awkwardness. The guys had nodded, understanding visible in their gaze. Everyone was sympathetic to the prodigious-yet-clumsy boy rather than the possibly-an-alien-replacement cryptid, naturally.

His dorm mates likely wouldn't be tolerant of Izuru's oddities for long, though. Regular people tended not to. Even if they were highly adaptable, there was a point where they would throw in the towel and stop putting up with the nonsense—not that Hajime would blame them. It was no different than how much he was willing to put up with Komaeda and his preferential treatment towards him and his brother, which wasn't much at all.

Regardless, Hajime was still holding out hope that his dorm mates wouldn't mind having Izuru around for at least a week. 

Today wasn't so bad, he thought. He already made friends, convinced his dorm mates (for now) that his brother wasn't a freak, and got a good portion of his homework completed. It had been an adjustment being away from home, but the newfound independence hadn't been so bad. Actually, when he thought about it, it...hadn't been all that different compared to what he had back at home. He was still his brother's keeper.

"So much for independence," Hajime murmured.

"Talking to yourself, Reserve?"

"Ah!" Hajime jumped and stumbled backward. His heart nearly leaped to his throat when he noticed the abrupt appearance of Komaeda leaning into his space. "What—what—!"

"Now you finally noticed me," Komaeda sniffed, pulling back. He had a smile plastered on, but his eyes were cold; it was a stark contrast to the adoration that he had held in his gaze whenever he had looked in Izuru's direction. "You took a while, but what can I expect from someone in the Reserve Course?"

Fantastic. Now that Koizumi or Izuru wasn't here to chastise him for bad behavior, Komaeda was just going to go off, wasn't he? Hajime heaved a sigh and went back to walking. "Is there something that I can help you with?"

"You? A Reserve? Help me?" Komaeda gave a wheezy chuckle. "That's outrageous! How can someone like you help me?"

His brows dipped into a furrow. "Then...is there something that you want to talk to me about?" he asked haltingly.

"Perhaps," Komaeda replied noncommittally. 

Hajime waited, but the other boy didn't say anything more. Puzzled, Hajime looked at him to catch his eye, but Komaeda simply smiled as he followed him down the path. 

What the heck? What was this?

"So, there _is_ something you want to talk about?" he pressed.

"I wonder. Is there?" Komaeda tilted his head to the side.

Oh, hell no. This was one of those mind crap games, wasn't it? Hajime wasn't having any of that, thank you. 

Hajime weighed his options: One, he would run like the wind, leaving Komaeda in the dust. Hajime knew that lanky people could be good runners, and Komaeda was definitely lanky, but he was also frail-looking; he even had grandma hair to match his fragility, so there was a chance that he sucked at endurance. Two, he wouldn't respond. Komaeda wanted to run him around in circles with non-answers and self-projected mysteriousness? Fine, but he ought to know that Hajime didn't intend on playing.

A third option popped up in his head: Pull an Izuru. Say the first thing that came to mind and go on from there. 

Hajime scrapped that plan. The first thing that he wanted to tell Komaeda was that he had grandma hair, but he had a feeling that Komaeda would either badmouth himself or badmouth him. Either way, the other boy would surely go off on a condemning tangent, and that was something that Hajime didn't want to hear. 

He internally groaned. He should have known that thinking about the lucky student would cause him to show up; that was basically testing the universe. Hajime couldn't help it, though; Komaeda had been an aberration to his relatively good day, and Yamamoto ranting about him when they had returned to class more or less exacerbated it. 

"You've gone quiet. Ran out of things to say?" Komaeda's voice stirred him out of his contemplation, and Hajime reflexively scowled after registering what he had just said. 

"Can't you tell when a person is ignoring you?" he grumbled. 

"Where are you headed?" Komaeda asked, ignoring his question.

This guy...!

"What's it to you?" Hajime huffed, narrowing his eyes at him. "Why care about this Reserve's business? Why not mind your own?"

"Believe me, I would be more than happy to, but it occurred to me that there's something of great importance that you must know." With that bored tone, it didn't seem like it really was as important as he was conveying it to be. Or maybe that was his default tone when talking to Reserves—aside from his other tones of disgust and superiority. 

"And how is this relevant to you knowing my whereabouts?"

"Because what I have to say will take quite a bit of your time. I can't imagine you having anything better to do, but I thought that I at least be polite."

Him? _Polite_? As if that could be possible!

Wait, that could be possible.

Hajime had to admit that he was a smidgen curious to hear what Komaeda wanted to tell him. For a guy who could barely stand his presence, it must be something for him to walk alongside him for this long. However, Hajime wasn't so patient as to put up with the patronizing, which undoubtedly was going to be the reason why Komaeda wanted to take up his time. 

But if Izuru was there, then surely Komaeda would give him a modicum of respect like how he had during lunch. 

And, so, Hajime asked him, "Want to come over for dinner?"


	4. Hajime's Days 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Spotty science at best.

During Komaeda's monologue, what Hajime had bothered to pick up were his analogies. A small dog could never be a big dog. A penguin could never soar through the skies. After that, he had zoned out. He had tried listening in again, but his attention had slipped away when Komaeda had started explaining why he was a worthless human being. Honestly. This boy needed help for just how often he talked badly about himself.

When Komaeda finished, Hajime turned to his brother and asked, "Did you get all that?"

"I did," Izuru said, "and I wish that I didn't."

Ha, sucked to be Izuru. That was what he got for being a natural-born genius. Always being unable to turn off one's brain. So sad. 

Before Komaeda could heap praises onto Izuru, Hajime requested, "Summary, please."

"People can only be inherently talented, hard work is useless, talented people are worthy, untalented people are worthless, Komaeda admires talented people, Komaeda is trash, and Komaeda wants to be used as a stepping stone," Izuru listed monotonously.

"A stepping stone?"

"In the name of hope!" Komaeda burst out in breathy elation. "Because only talented people can cultivate hope and defeat despair! That's why I hold great respect for the Ultimates!"

"Oh, is that so." Hajime glanced down. "Komaeda, finish your vegetables."

"Hmph. What are you, my mother? Don't tell me what to do, Reserve."

"Finish your vegetables," Izuru said.

"Of course! Whatever you say, Hinata-kun!"

Hajime leaned back in his seat and passively watched Komaeda eagerly cram a broccoli in his mouth. After observing how Komaeda behaved around Izuru, Hajime concluded that he wasn't a sycophant. No, Komaeda fawned over and lionized Izuru because he believed that his brother was deserving of it, not because he wanted to gain something from him. 

In a way, it was kind of refreshing. Sure, Komaeda was overwhelming in his adulation, definitely to a nauseating degree, but at least he was genuine with his feelings. Hajime couldn't count the number of times people had attempted to sidle up to Izuru with an incentive in mind. People had always wanted to reap the rewards from Izuru's talents; Komaeda, on the other hand, only wanted to give.

That much Hajime suspected. He might have to confirm it with Izuru later tonight, but he felt certain in his assessment. 

"So, why did you want to tell me all of this?" Hajime asked.

"To put you in your place, of course," Komaeda answered primly.

"Put me in my place?" he reiterated, baffled.

"Certainly. As impressive it is being the brother of the Ultimate Hope, you are still no one special. A pale comparison to him—no, not even a comparison! You're just as worthless as I am—"

There was a threshold of just how much ridicule that Hajime could take. He was starting to feel vestiges of irritation, but that was snuffed out the moment Izuru spoke.

"That's enough." Hardly anything could set off Izuru, but when something did, Izuru became scary. The command had been low and sharp, a notable contrast to his typical lazy drawls. He remained seated, a perfect picture of calmness, but it was obvious to see that he was anything but when sitting close to him.

His expression was icy and his eyes looked as though they were devoid of any light. A menacing aura seemed to roll off of him in waves. Hajime watched as Komaeda clammed up, stiffening to the change in atmosphere as he was on the receiving end of Izuru's stare.

"I told you before, Komaeda; I won't tolerate anymore insults towards my brother. It's bad enough that I allowed a few slip-ups, but I won't let it happen again."

To say that only Komaeda was stunned would be an understatement. It wasn't everyday that Hajime got to witness Izuru standing up for him, especially not in this manner. However, before Hajime could wrap his mind over this, Komaeda jolted out of his stupor and gave a stilted apology. He chuckled, albeit obviously forced, and said that he ought to leave since it was getting so late. 

The satisfaction in seeing Komaeda packing away and leaving was hollow, perhaps nonexistent. Not to say that Hajime wasn't relieved to see him go, but he also wasn't happy that dinner had ended the way it had. It...didn't feel right. 

As the twins took their dishes from their room to the kitchen, Hajime asked, "Why _did_ you allow him a few slip-ups?"

"I wanted to see if he could defy my expectations given his luck, but he fell into the ninety-four percent range that he'd act up." Izuru sighed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to use my curiosity at your expense."

Hajime quirked an eyebrow. "I forgive you, but...his luck? Wasn't his title just because of a lottery?"

"Maybe, maybe not," was the vague response.

"Okay, then..." Hajime shook his head. "Well, thanks for defending me. I appreciate it."

"Hm." Not one joke about wanting to rescue his damsel in distress? Izuru really must be in a foul mood. 

As they finished up washing and drying, Izuru, out of the blue, said, "He has malignant lymphoma and frontotemporal dementia."

Hajime started at that. "Wh-who? Komaeda?"

A nod.

His eyes widened. "He has cancer? And a brain disease?"

"According to his medical file, at least."

"Huh?"

"He likely does have cancer, but his behavior doesn't accurately align with those who are diagnosed with dementia."

"Wait, wait, wait. Since when did you gain access to his medical file?"

"I was bored waiting for your break to start, so I hacked into the school system."

If his hand wasn't wet, he would have face-palmed. "Let's...continue this conversation in our room."

Once they were back, Izuru said, "Because this disease affects the frontal and temporal lobes, his cognitive and language skills should be affected."

"What are the symptoms?"

"Socially inappropriate and obsessive behavior," Izuru began mercilessly. When Hajime fixed him a look, he pouted. "Seriously."

"Fine. Go on."

"Loss of empathy, concentration, communication, memory..." he trailed off, and then added, "Mood swings."

"Those are a lot of losses," Hajime muttered. 

"He's filthy rich, so not really."

"How do you—no, don't say that it's because you hacked into the system. There's no way the school would need to know about how much is in his bank account, especially when he's an Ultimate."

"Not unless if it pertains to his luck."

"What?"

"Never mind that. It's irrelevant." He waved a hand. Hajime frowned at that. Twice did Izuru mention Komaeda's luck, so he was disinclined to think of it as "irrelevant." But knowing that he couldn't persuade his brother into divulging, he let it go. 

"Elaborate on why his symptoms don't match up."

"He's rude, but that doesn't mean he's incapable of being empathetic. Despite his distaste towards the Reserve Course students, he commiserates them in terms of being untalented. You heard how he talks about himself, right? It's the same way he describes the Reserves."

Because he felt the same way about himself? That was him being empathetic? Good grief. "So he wasn't just being condescending?"

"Nope," Izuru said. "He can also be rather manipulative, and to be manipulative means that one must have a keen understanding about a person."

"I'm guessing that you talked a lot with him during class," Hajime said. Not that it would take Izuru long to analyze a person's character, but, what with rifling through Komaeda's rambling, Hajime figured that it probably took more than one conversation for Izuru to make his assessment. 

"More like he talked to me. Speaking of which, he's very articulate. I found him to be incredibly intelligent, not to mention philosophical and an abstract thinker." He paused. "He's your opposite, in a way."

"What, are you saying that I'm an idiot?" Hajime snarked. 

Izuru hummed. "No, but you are dense, which is what I love about you."

"Izuru."

"What I mean is that he speaks in a roundabout way whereas you don't mince your words. You know, it's part of the reason why people call you a tsundere."

"Shut up."

"See?"

" _Izuru_."

"Anyway, if his brain is capable of having such functions, then I don't believe that he has dementia. What you can derive from that is that he's able to scheme and focus." Did that mean that Komaeda running into him hadn't been a coincidence? "There's also the fact that he can be polite when he wants to be, so that crosses out loss of social inhibitions."

"Really? Because even when polite, he acts inappropriately," Hajime pointed out dryly, remembering the discomfort on Koizumi's face whenever Komaeda had spoken to her during lunch.

"He seldom recognizes any social cues, but that's mostly due to his upbringing. Or lack thereof. Either way."

Hmm. Then Komaeda's behavior was a result of childhood neglect? Bullying? Hajime considered this. "So, is he just an incredibly socially awkward guy or is he unhinged?"

"He's definitely unhinged. Had a hard life." That confirmed it.

He nodded. "I see, but couldn't he be in the earlier stages of dementia?"

"If that was the case, then he'd display signs of apathy, lack of sociability, and obsessive behavior that would escalate from there. However, after talking to him, I found that he's been the way he is for a very long time."

"A misdiagnose, then?"

"Yup."

"But he has cancer?"

"Yup. Can be cured, though."

Izuru crawled back under the covers and buried his face into his pillow. "By the way," he said, voice semi-muffled, "he's likely been told that he has about six months to a year left to live. Perhaps contributes to why he behaves so erratically."

Hajime's lips parted to gape. "Seriously?"

"Yup."

"You are going to tell him about this, right?"

"No."

"Izuru—"

"I just dug through his personal files. And even if he doesn't mind it, I don't want anyone else to know what I've done. It'd be troublesome."

"You can't just let that guy go around thinking that he's not going to live for long when it's been a misdiagnose all this time," Hajime chided, exasperated. "That's just wrong!"

"Noooo," Izuru droned. "Don't wanna..."

In the end, despite Hajime yelling at his brother for ten minutes, Izuru didn't pay heed to his chastisement (as usual). Hajime sighed and ran a hand through his hair, weary. 

What should he do now?

There was no way that he could pretend that he wasn't affected by this. Komaeda was an ass, but he was an ass due to circumstances. Hajime, on his good conscience, didn't want the luckster to continue to think that he was living on borrowed time. Izuru obviously had predicted that he would respond this way, which begged the question: If it was going to be so much of a bother later, why had Izuru relayed to Hajime of his findings? He could have just kept the information to himself.

Hajime stopped himself from going down that track. Ruminating over Izuru's intentions was an activity that ended up wasting time. While Hajime may be his brother and the person closest to him, he could never figure out what exactly went on in that brain of his. This could be another of Izuru's grand master plan or an act of impulse for all he knew. Wouldn't be the first time. Either way, Hajime just couldn't let this one go. 

Then again...Izuru did have a point (as usual). It could stir up some unnecessary problems even if they tried to contain the issue by keeping it to themselves and Komaeda. What was more, Hajime couldn't be sure if Komaeda would act on behest of Izuru, probably being unable to control himself in spreading the grand news of the Ultimate Hope's competence. If word got out that a student had easily hacked into the school's systems...

Yeah, that would be a headache.

But he couldn't just leave things as they were! 

Argh. How annoying. And it was just the first day too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I credit my sources to...
> 
> https://kasael.tumblr.com/post/145535871574/nagito-komaeda-doesnt-have-frontotemporal  
> https://www.ucsfhealth.org/conditions/frontotemporal-dementia/symptoms


	5. Hajime's Days 4

Komaeda didn't eat with them during lunch anymore after that day.

Yamamoto had been unrepentant in expressing her delight. Koizumi herself had appeared more at ease without the boy's company, especially when she got to stop playing as the mediator for Yamamoto and Komaeda. Hajime, on the other hand, had felt guilty. He still felt guilty.

He knew that this weight in his chest came from knowing about Komaeda's problems and how he could have done something to allay him of his burdens, and yet he had done nothing about it. He had been wading through his school life for these past two weeks in peace, hence the guilt. 

And that was the thing—these past two weeks had been _peaceful_. None of Izuru's shenanigans had come to blow up in Hajime's face. At first, Hajime had been suspicious whether or not Izuru actually had something in the works unbeknownst to him, but his intuition had told him that might not be the case. More than ever, his brother had been... Well, not quite docile, but certainly more compliant than before.

For instance, Izuru hadn't once pitched a fit about Hajime pushing him into the shower. He had even properly washed himself; normally, he would have just stood under the spray until Hajime would come to fetch him. 

And if that hadn't been an indicator of a change, then his smothering had been.

Izuru had always been clingy, but, ever since classes had started, his clinginess had worsened. Whenever they would meet up during break and lunchtime, Izuru would immediately glue himself to Hajime's side, sometimes even burying his face into the junction of his collarbone and neck without surfacing for air. There had been a point where Koizumi and Yamamoto had to resort to hair yanking just to pry Izuru off before class started.

As it would seem, this separation was enough of a distraction for Izuru to not find other ways to alleviate his boredom. The antics-free routine would have been a welcomed change had it not been for Izuru's worrying shift in behavior. 

"It's like he can't function without you around," Yamamoto had once remarked. 

That...was kind of true. For as long as Hajime could remember, he had the one to tend to Izuru's needs, both physically and emotionally. Although Izuru was more than capable of surviving on his own, he had elected not to do anything unless Hajime was there to serve as his cogwheel. Sometimes, Hajime wondered if Izuru enjoyed his nagging in actuality, seeing how his brother would deliberately act like a slob in front of him while appearing impeccable before others (until recently, that was). 

At times, Hajime would find this to be annoying; other times, he couldn't imagine what else he would be doing if not being by Izuru's side. Perhaps Hajime himself was reliant on Izuru, but in a way that it was irrevocable for him. He was an average guy with average skills; what else could he do aside from what the Ultimate Hope required from him? In fact, Hajime already had a future planned out for them, one where Izuru would be out making money while he would stay at home to cook and clean.

What a grim thought. Ugh. Maybe the housewife parallel was truer than he had thought.

Regardless, despite Izuru's newfound status as a human octopus, Hajime had been reluctant to disrupt this tentative quietude. He was finally getting a semblance of order in his life, a pattern that he could easily fall into. It was also why he didn't go out of his way to seek out Komaeda among other reasons. 

Hajime didn't think of himself as a bad person, but to be this selfish... Maybe he wasn't a good person either. 

Where Hajime contemplated on how he ought to sort this situation, to let things lie where they were or to remedy it, Koizumi came with an answer on her own.

"I'm sick of his gloominess," Koizumi huffed, jabbing her chopsticks in Izuru's direction.

"You haven't even known him long enough to know that he's anything beyond his gloominess," Hajime pointed out. 

"Of course I do. The first time when we met, remember?"

"You mean when he was being the Ultimate Nuisance?" Yamamoto giggled.

"Anyway, you don't know what he's like during class. All he does is sit there and stare mournfully at the window. And by the time the bell rings, he bolts out through the door like the building's on fire, obviously going to the Reserve Department."

Hajime raised a brow. "He actually attends class?"

"Only because I make him stay; otherwise, he'd no doubt be sitting in class with you or something."

"Or waiting outside like a loyal dog," Yamamoto said, although not unkindly. Nowadays, the comparison was all too fitting to be an insult. 

Hajime set his bento on his lap as he glanced between the girls. It was interesting to see how forbearing Koizumi was with Izuru and, for that matter, how she was willing to watch over him in Hajime's stead. Likewise, it was surprising to see how both she and Yamamoto had stuck around with them for this long. No one else had done so before, usually too put off with Izuru's oddities to last long.

Perhaps it had been like how a duckling would imprint on the first thing that it would see. The twins had been the first people who the girls had spoken to and hung out with, not to mention the only Main and Reserve Course pair they had encountered; therefore, they were friends. Even when Koizumi would be particularly harsh towards them for being boys or how Yamamoto's mood would seesaw hot and cold unexpectedly, Hajime was glad that he had their company.

Once upon a time, Hajime would have been suspicious as to how these girls were able to tolerate them for this long. Sure, Izuru had (yet) to pull anything, but they had been exposed to enough of his outlandish behavior to know just how much of a weirdo he was. However, according to Koizumi, almost everyone in Class 77-B was a weirdo, including their teacher who would arrive to class drunk.

Whether she had wanted to or not, she had to adapt to the colorful characters that surrounded her, even if hardly half of them would make themselves present. Hajime didn't know how Koizumi did it, but kudos to her for bearing it. Seriously. She had Komaeda as a classmate, after all. 

As for Yamamoto, she had stated that Izuru was more interesting than unpleasant and that Hajime's personality was very similar to Koizumi's, especially whenever he mothered Izuru. Hajime initially hadn't known what to feel about that, but he had promptly decided to be annoyed when Izuru had called them both tsunderes and Yamamoto had snickered. Koizumi hadn't been amused about it either.

"How did you manage to make him stay?" Hajime inquired.

"I bribe him with candid photos that I take of you," Koizumi said, avoiding his eyes. 

Hajime stared.

"What?" he belatedly cried out. "I thought you were a good person, Koizumi, but it turns out that you're terrible!"

"Hey, don't say that!" Koizumi snapped. "How else can I convince him to stay? It's not like I have a Hinata-san double to get him to do anything."

"Even if the impostor in our class starts looking and acting like Hajime, they still wouldn't be Hajime," Izuru spoke up for the first time, peeling his face from Hajime's side. "You can't sway me with a copycat."

Hajime blinked. What did he just say? 

"Impostor?" Yamamoto murmured, puzzled.

"What?" Koizumi frowned.

"Mitarai Ryota? He's not really Mitarai Ryota, but the Ultimate Impostor posing as him," Izuru elaborated.

"What?" Koizumi said again, but this time in alarm. 

Yamamoto's eyes widened. "I-is that allowed?"

"And where is the real Mitarai?"

"Mitarai's living the dream where he lives only in his room, and the impostor brings him food and doesn't make him leave or bathe," Izuru answered.

"Izuru bathes," Hajime cut in for good measure. 

"Only because you make me," Izuru sighed in dismay.

"We'll discuss the importance of hygiene later. What I want to know is who that—that guy is!" Koizumi exclaimed. "You called him the Ultimate Impostor, right? So is he—are _they_ actually a student?"

"Yeah. Hope's Peak knows about them and permits them to assume other people's identities since it's their talent."

"That can't be legal," Yamamoto said, disturbed. "How can Hope's Peak enroll someone like that here? This is a person who steals other people's identities, for goodness' sake!"

"Because it's a talent, that's why," Izuru replied, yawning. He dropped his chin on Hajime's shoulder before telling them, "When you think about it, the school brings in all kinds of Ultimates regardless of how shady their talents may be. We have the Ultimate Yakuza as a classmate, after all. Besides, there are plenty of uses for an impostor that can be meant for good."

The girls traded looks. "Um, how so?" Koizumi asked skeptically.

"Undercover work, profiling, and various other skills," he said. "While the impostor isn't really the Ultimate Animator, they're still proficient in drawing. In order to be the perfect replica, they not only have to replicate the personality and appearance but also the talent."

"Holy smokes," Yamamoto gasped. "Is this guy, like, another Ultimate Hope?"

"No. They're more like a jack of all trades." Izuru paused. "The Ultimate Factotum. They're average or above average in all the skills they copy. To be the Ultimate Hope, you have to be the master of all trades."

"How did you—wait, don't tell me." Koizumi rubbed her temple. "You used your Ultimate Detective talent to figure them out, didn't you?"

"I would've guessed the Ultimate Psychic," Yamamoto pitched in with a bleak smile.

"I'll employ my Ultimate Enigma to let you wonder about that for now."

Izuru had hacked into the servers to obtain this information, hadn't he?

"Why are you telling us about this now?" Hajime asked.

"As the Ultimate Impostor, no one is supposed to know that they're an impostor."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Hold on. That means that you shouldn't have told us about this, should you?" Yamamoto said.

"Nope, but I did." Izuru shrugged in a _what can you do_ manner. 

There was a beat of silence as everyone took a moment to register what they had just learned. Hope's Peak certainly was...something to have someone like that as a student.

Koizumi then broke the silence by hesitantly asking, "Is... Are they a bad person? Should we be wary of them?"

"No," Izuru answered. "Like I said, they take care of Mitarai and volunteered to be his substitute while Mitarai is trying to make a successful anime."

"So that's why he's missing?" Koizumi muttered to herself. "He's making anime?"

"You make it sound as though this Mitarai person won't be successful," Yamamoto noticed.

"At the way he's tackling his project, he'll sooner burn himself out than complete it."

"That's not good," Koizumi said with a disapproving frown. "I'll go talk to Mitarai's, uh, impostor. I'm sure that we can arrange something so that Mitarai doesn't end up keeling over."

"If you do that, then how are you going to explain you knowing about the impostor being an impostor?" Izuru asked.

"I'll mention you, duh."

"I'll deny it."

Koizumi stared. "What?"

"I'll deny it. Even if you insist that it was me who told you, they won't believe you, and then you'll have yourself an arch-nemesis." Izuru pulled away from Hajime to assume a pose, uncannily like a campy shounen manga character. The dead fish expression ruined the effect, though. "They'll dispose of your body and take over your place as Koizumi Mahiru, the Ultimate Photographer." And then he droned, "Mwahahaha."

"Jeez, if you don't want to be involved, then why would you tell us about them in the first place?" Koizumi fumed. 

"As the Ultimate Enigma, I'll never tell you."

"The Ultimate Nuisance strikes again," Yamamoto noted. 

It was later settled that, for the Ultimate Impostor's sake, no one would approach them with the knowledge that they were, well, an impostor. Izuru had made a strangely poignant speech about calling out a person whose entire being revolved around their talent would be like uprooting their existence. For that, Koizumi had reluctantly agreed to leave Mitarai alone, but not before securing a promise out of Izuru that he would intercede before Mitarai's health would plummet. 

"Well, with that out of the way, let's go back to the topic of pulling Hinata-kun out of his funk," Koizumi said.

"That reminds me," Hajime said, fixing her a look, "what kind of photos did you give him exactly?"

Koizumi was kind enough to show him the pictures that she had taken on her camera, but she wasn't kind enough to _not_ take the kind of photos that she had.

"Koizumi, what the hell!" Hajime spat out, disgruntled. "These are awful!"

Yamamoto leaned over into his space to look at the image that he had stopped at from his scrolling. Behind the small digital screen was a picture of Hajime, naturally. What incited such a reaction out of him, though, like the fact that his mouth was agape with masticated food visible on his tongue, and his eyes were halfway lidded. Obviously, Koizumi had taken it when he had been feeding himself, but... Good grief, did she really had to keep this one? And all the others? Practically every photo of him had been him making these stupid faces!

Yamamoto burst into laughter.

Hajime glared at Koizumi. "How'd you even take these without me noticing?"

Koizumi shrugged, an amused smirk toying at her lips. "It wasn't that hard. You are kind of oblivious to your surroundings."

He wanted to defend himself against that, but he found that he had no argument. He then swapped his focus to Izuru. "And you were bribed with these photos?"

"They were very compelling," Izuru said. "I get to immortalize these precious moments of you now."

Immortalize him hacking out spittle during his sneeze? "Gross. That is so gross."

By the time Yamamoto got a hold of herself, she proposed that, in order to make Izuru miss Hajime less, Izuru needed to be busy. And what better way to occupy his time than to spend it with his classmates?

Izuru swiftly rejected the idea, but he was overruled by everyone. 

"This isn't a democracy," Izuru contended. "This is an autocracy, by which I am the ruler and myself is mine to govern."

"Izuru, this is for your own good," Hajime said sternly. "You're driving yourself into this depressed spiral of yours. Also, you're going to wind up bald with all the hair yanking that the girls will do to you just to get you to class."

"Bald is fine. Who needs hair?" said the boy who refused to cut his three-foot-long hair. 

"If not this, then maybe he could visit the Ultimate Therapist to talk about his separation anxiety?" Yamamoto said.

"Why would I need to talk to myself about a problem that I don't have?"

It was times like these when the group would ignore Izuru and continue to converse among themselves. 

By the time lunch ended, everyone (sans Izuru) had come to an easy consensus in having Izuru become more involved with his classmates. And to make that happen, Yamamoto had come up with yet another brilliant idea: Turn Izuru into the class president. 

"We'll have to talk more about this tomorrow," Koizumi said as she grabbed a fistful of Izuru's collar, tugging him backward before he could make a lunge at Hajime. "I don't think photos alone will be enough to convince him to take the spot."

"You shouldn't be using those photos in the first place," Hajime groused.

The Main Course and Reserve Course students went on their separate ways, each heading for their respective buildings. In the meantime, Hajime and Yamamoto talked among themselves about what they imagined Izuru would do as 77-B's president. Not much, they figured, which was why he needed a vice-president to spur him on. Koizumi would be excellent for the position.

"You know, that's the first time in a long time that I've heard Hinata-kun talk so much," Yamamoto said.

"I guess so?" Hajime pursed his lips in thought. Izuru didn't seem all that different to him, but, then again, he typically was like that when it was just the two of them. He supposed that his brother was more subdued in front of the girls as of recent. 

"Haven't you noticed? Whenever you're brought up in the conversation, he speaks up; sometimes, he would go off on a tangent, but only if you're the initial topic."

He nearly tripped. "O-oh." Hajime awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and gingerly glanced down at Yamamoto. To his surprise, she appeared placid, if not mildly amused. "You...don't seem bothered by this."

"You mean about your twin's obsessive fixation on you?"

"Th-that's blunt..."

She shrugged. "In a way, I think I understand. I'm not, like, crazy about Mahiru-chan like how Hinata-kun is towards you, but I do know what it's like to want to be with someone who you care about."

It took Hajime a second to realize it. "Ah, that's right. You entered Hope's Peak to be with Koizumi." At Yamamoto's hummed affirmation, he considered her words.

He recalled back on how his classmate had described Izuru to be interesting, hence her reason to continue her friendship with him. Although, he now wondered, was that all there was to it? Hajime didn't doubt that Yamamoto was indeed intrigued by Izuru, from his multiple talents to his personality, but he also suspected that it was because she found someone similar to herself.

It hadn't escaped Hajime's notice that Yamamoto had been a bit...proprietorial towards Koizumi in the beginning. Certainly not to a transparent degree like how Izuru was to him, but the possessiveness was there. The way she had clung onto the photographer's arm, the way she had sidled up next to her—the overt display of skinship had been indicative enough that Koizumi was off-limits. Whether Koizumi hadn't minded this or had been unaware, he didn't know.

However, once everyone had adjusted to each other comfortably, Yamamoto had eased up on the act. She even had become friendlier when Izuru had become clingier. Suddenly, the comparisons that the girl had made between him and Koizumi now made sense. That had been it, huh? That Hajime was the Koizumi to Izuru's Yamamoto? That either boy posed no competition for Yamamoto because their relationship basically mirrored theirs?

"Hinata-san? Hellooo? Hinata-san? Are you in there?"

"Hm?" Hajime glanced at Yamamoto, who was peering up at him curiously. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking."

"Must've been serious. You had this intense expression until now," she said, mimicking him with an exaggerated scowl. She grinned when he nudged her with his elbow, but quickly sobered up later when she asked, "Was it something that I said?"

"Kind of," he admitted. "It gave me an epiphany of sorts..."

"Is that so?"

Hajime wasn't going to call her out by telling her about her possessiveness. As far as he was concerned, it probably wasn't harmful towards anyone. Well, aside from Koizumi whose chances of getting a date were shot—if that she would be interested in that sort of thing, anyway. So, instead, Hajime said, "Izuru really isn't helping with the whole brotherly love thing, is he?"

Yamamoto broke into giggles. "Sometimes, even I wonder!"

"I'm telling you, it isn't like that!"

"Good luck trying to convince our classmates otherwise. Oh, and dispelling that rumor."

"Yeah, yeah—wait, there's a _rumor_?"


	6. Hajime's Days 5

The day started out disastrously when Hajime found what had been stuffed in Izuru's pocket. 

"Izuru."

"Look, I'm sorry. I know that this pisses you off, but—can't I just have it back? Please?"

" _Izuru_."

"Hajime, you're wrinkling it."

A vein throbbed on the side of Hajime's temple, but he loosened his grip. Marginally. "Answer my question. Why the hell would you carry this around with you?"

Izuru pouted. "I can't help it," he mumbled, looking away. "It's my good luck charm."

"You don't need a good luck charm," Hajime nearly shrieked. "You're lucky enough as it is, damn it!"

"Okay, let me correct myself: It's my feel-good charm. Every time I look at it, it makes me feel good."

"I wish that you would quit it with the jokes."

"I wouldn't joke about this—"

"And didn't you promise me that you wouldn't do this?"

"Nooo," Izuru said, dragging out the word. "I promised you that I wouldn't post it online. I never promised anything else."

"Stop it with the technicalities, asshole," he snapped. "You knew what I meant back then."

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's all too rather vague." He made a flapping gesture as though to illustrate the vagueness. "I don't know. I am just one man, Hajime."

In a bout of fury, Hajime tore the photo—the material that his brother used to blackmail him into attending Hope's Peak—in half.

Izuru stared, and then said in a reassuring voice, "That's okay. I made copies."

Hajime's cries of anger reverberated past their room's walls.

* * *

No amount of discrete photos of Hajime could push Izuru into taking up the role of being class president. As a result, Koizumi had resorted to threats. 

Threatening someone capable of grand feats of athleticism and intelligence would have been an exercise in futility, but Koizumi didn't need to be an athlete or an intellect to gain an upper hand on Izuru. For these past two weeks, the photographer had come to learn the nature of one Hinata Izuru—most importantly, just how strong his reliance on Hajime was. So it came to no surprise to Hajime that Koizumi had threatened Izuru...to monopolize Hajime's time. 

More specifically, reduce the amount of time he and Izuru got to spend together during school. Hence why Koizumi had invited their classmates to eat lunch with them. 

"Huh? So these are the losers who you always eat with?" Saionji Hiyoko sneered, disdainfully appraising Hajime and Yamamoto. "I thought you'd have better taste than that, Big Sis Koizumi."

Hajime had to hold back Yamamoto from lunging at the girl.

"Hellololo! Nice ta meet Mahiru-chan's buddies at looong last!" Mioda Ibuki trilled, giving them a wink. "Can't wait to get to know you guys better!"

"U-um, from the bottom of my heart, I-I hope that we can become good friends," Tsumiki Mikan said, coyly looking up from beneath her lashes as she clasped her hands together.

Hajime returned their greetings haltingly before looking at Izuru, who had a distinctly constipated look on his face. Meanwhile, Koizumi appeared triumphant in her plan. 

"Hey, pig barf, move out of the way! Your big butt is taking up the whole space."

"Hiiee! I'm sorry!"

Izuru stared at the lot before his expression smoothed out, returning to its typical apathetic one. "I can always make them leave—permanently. Bribery and blackmail aren't difficult to use against people like them."

Instead of being disturbed, the photographer held her ground. "But you won't," Koizumi replied smugly, "because you know that I know that you're too lazy for that. And I know that you know that I can always get the others involved if not them, especially Komaeda."

"Shit," Izuru said emphatically, "I am lazy."

"You know, these girls aren't so bad compared to that guy," Yamamoto immediately said, relaxing against Hajime's hold. Komaeda had made an ever-lasting impression on Yamamoto that made actual garbage more favorable to be next to than the personification of one (her words, not his). Hajime had always thought that to be quite an exaggeration, but he hadn't had half of his classmate's temper.

Koizumi beamed. "There you have it."

Hajime wasn't sure if Izuru saw Koizumi and Yamamoto as friends, but he knew that his brother tolerated them—up until now, that was. They hadn't presented themselves as obstacles to his never-ending quest for amusement, and they certainly hadn't been proponents of boredom either. However, that didn't mean that they couldn't be annoying to his brother. Komaeda had been, and Izuru had driven him away. 

Hajime hoped that this stunt that Koizumi was pulling wouldn't piss off Izuru. He didn't seem like it now, but Izuru could be agitated in a deep simmering way; if he was being pushed too far, such as exacerbating his deprivation of Hajime, then he could lash out in the worst way possible. And Hajime did not want that to happen; if Izuru caused Koizumi to run off, then Yamamoto would undoubtedly follow, and then Hajime would have lost both of his friends. 

"Today, let's sit out on the grass under the tree," Koizumi suggested. 

"But I don't want grass stains on my kimono, though," whined Saionji. 

"Then we'll have one of the Hinatas to give up his jacket."

"Um, what?" Hajime said.

Koizumi propped her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "Hey, don't complain! Be a man and offer your jacket."

Stifling a sigh, Hajime did as told and shrugged off his jacket. Yeah, he liked Koizumi a whole lot, but not when she was like this— _bossy_. She was more easygoing when it was just the four of them. He laid his jacket on the ground and nodded at Saionji, who shot him a nasty look before primly settling down. 

"Yeah! Time to eat!" Mioda plopped down next to Saionji and eagerly dug into her sandwich, earning her a disgusted glare by the short girl. Everyone else joined them, forming a mangled circle. Koizumi sat on Saionji's other side while Yamamoto promptly claimed the seat next to hers, and Tsumiki shuffled forward so that she could sidle next to Mioda. Izuru, of course, had lingered back so that he could sit when Hajime would. 

After seeing the fearful glance that Tsumiki had given his brother, Hajime decided that it would be best if he sat next to her. 

"Hey, Mahiru-chan, you said that Hajime-chan is the reason why Izuru-chan gets all mopey, right?" Mioda said.

"That's right."

"Hmm. Ibuki sees... But! Ibuki also sees that it might be more than that!" she exclaimed, pointing at Izuru, who wrapped his arms around Hajime. Hajime blinked at his brother, not realizing that Izuru had already started clinging to him. This had been going on for a while that having his personal bubble being invaded had become almost second nature. Actually...it had only been half a month. Hajime shouldn't have become this accustomed to it yet. 

"You get used to it," Yamamoto said, who had also adjusted to the presence of the overly attached Izuru. 

"Ew! What are you? A nasty brocon?" Saionji pretended to gag. "I think I lost my appetite."

Mioda dropped her sandwich onto her lap and cupped her cheeks. "Gasp! Is this the infamous brotherly love Ibuki has heard so much about?"

The words rang uncannily familiar to Hajime, causing him to reflexively turn his gaze onto Yamamoto. Yamamoto smirked knowingly at him in response. "Ugh, no," Hajime denied flatly, wearily. "Nothing like that. Izuru's just affectionate."

"But Izuru-chan being affectionate is as OOC as Ibuki not rocking extra hard during halftime! And halftime is when Ibuki rocks out _hard,_ " Mioda refuted adamantly, which...confused Hajime. He didn't understand anything that she had just said. 

"That is true," Tsumiki concurred. With Izuru snuggling into Hajime's space, her nervousness was dispelled, now replaced by an ogle of bewilderment. "I-I've never seen Hinata-san-kun like this before."

Right... Koizumi had informed him and Yamamoto how Izuru was like during class. Maybe seeing Izuru, an intimidating dark recluse, behaving like this was too bizarre for anyone else in Class 77-B to comprehend. Saionji and Tsumiki were staring at Izuru in varying degrees of incredulity whereas Mioda appeared as though she was catching a glimpse of a unicorn. Hajime was beginning to feel a tad self-conscious, so he tried to push Izuru away, only for his brother to tighten his hold. 

"What? No comment about how Hinata-san is your housewife?" Yamamoto quipped.

"What?" Saionji, Mioda, and Tsumiki cried out in tandem.

"Oh, for the love of—it's not like that!" Hajime glowered at his classmate. "Why'd you have to bring that up?"

Before Yamamoto could say anything, Mioda practically screamed out, "Kyaaa! So it's true! The forbidden love of siblings has been breached!" She scrambled across the circle until she was leaning into Hajime. She grabbed his head and peered excitedly into his eyes. "Who does the breaching, though? Is it Izuru-chan? Or is Hajime-chan the pitcher?"

" _Excuse me_?" Hajime sputtered. 

"No, wait, Sato-chan said that you're the housewife, so of course Izuru-chan is the one doing the pitching!"

"Bwaha!" he heard Yamamoto choke out. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Ibuki-chan, it really isn't like that!" Koizumi pulled the girl away from Hajime, a frown on her face. "Hinata-kun just has separation anxiety, okay? Don't make this into something that isn't true."

"What? Then Ibuki-chan doesn't get to find out how it works?" Mioda pouted.

"It's not like that!" Hajime and Koizumi shouted. 

"Oh, gosh. This is the grossest thing that I've ever heard," Saionji moaned, covering her ears. "Why do we have to eat with these weirdos, Big Sis?"

Throughout lunch, Izuru was silent—more so than how he usually was. 

* * *

The next day, Izuru didn't show up during break. Hajime was shocked. 

"This is the first time since we got here," he told Yamamoto.

"He did seem pretty out of it yesterday during lunch," she said, leaning against the vending machine. "Maybe he's withdrawing from everyone? Did he act any differently after school?"

Hajime shook his head. "Was the same as ever. Although, you do have a point about lunch; I don't think that he liked having those girls around."

"I know what you mean. He was so quiet; he didn't even say anything about his marital status when he's usually so keen about flaunting it."

Hajime not-so accidentally tripped Yamamoto on their way back to class. 

When lunchtime came around, Izuru and Koizumi showed up without their classmates. 

"Huh, so no Saionji, Mioda, and— _ack_!" Izuru suddenly plowed into Hajime, knocking him onto the ground while holding onto him with considerably more desperation than before. 

"I don't like this school, Hajime," Izuru declared monotonously. "Let's transfer to another school."

"Oh no you don't," Koizumi said, tugging on the ends of Izuru's hair. "I know that you can be unreliable, but you can't just ditch your responsibilities."

"Responsibilities?" Yamamoto gasped. "Does that mean...?"

Koizumi grinned at her. "That's right. You're looking at Class 77-B's class president! And you were right, Sato-chan; I have to be there to keep an eye on this guy, so I'm now the vice-president—whoa!"

Yamamoto tackled her for a hug. "That's amazing, Mahiru-chan! I knew that you'd be able to do it!" 

Meanwhile, as the girls were celebrating Koizumi's victory against Izuru, Hajime managed to stop Izuru from blocking his airways. He sat up and sighed, giving his brother a dry look. "I guess that explains why I didn't see you before."

"It pains me that I won't be able to see you as much, but it's a sacrifice worth making if I can just have you to myself during this time," Izuru declared.

"Don't say things like that."

"I was serious about changing schools, though."

Hajime frowned, gently pushing his brother back by his shoulders. Ever since they had become students here, Izuru had changed in ways that Hajime hadn't expected him to (or for him to change at all). His fixation on Hajime had gone from zero to a hundred, and he joked and played less. However, that also meant that Izuru wasn't causing havoc just to alleviate his boredom, and he was considerably better-behaved on top of that. 

What was more, while the Reserves in Hajime's dorm and class naturally came to see Izuru as a weirdo, they weren't entirely put off by him. There were a few who would even greet him instead of avoiding him. This was the first time that ordinary people didn't ostracize them just because Izuru was different. 

But Izuru never cared about what others thought about him. Rather, he was more concerned about fulfilling his needs and desires than anything else, even if it meant ruining whatever normalcy they could have at Hajime's expense. Hajime knew that Izuru cared about him, loved him, but he also knew that his brother was selfish in a way that he sometimes wouldn't bother considering what Hajime would want. 

Izuru likely had their paperwork ready to make their transfer, Hajime thought exasperatedly. And for what? Just because he found their segregation to be too much of an inconvenience for him to handle? What a baby.

But...maybe that was Hajime's fault. Maybe Hajime coddled his younger twin so much that Izuru ended up thinking that he could go ahead and do whatever he liked. And, well, it wasn't as if their parents, teachers, and peers hadn't enabled him to have this mindset. Everyone had been just as culpable, but Hajime probably had been the worst one of all. For all his nagging, Hajime had ultimately allowed Izuru to go off the rails when he could have prevented him. And, yes, Hajime had been the one to push Izuru into doing activities, to go out and do _something_ , but he had also been the one to let Izuru fall back into his old habits.

This coddling had continued when Hajime had joined Izuru into attending Hope's Peak. Well, he had been blackmailed, but he still had given into doing what Izuru had wanted. And now, after paying that hefty fee and blackmailing Hajime, Izuru wanted to just up and leave everything. That...didn't sit right with Hajime. 

Hajime might not have had wanted to go to the academy in the first place, but he now liked it. He liked the routine and his classmates. He liked the friends that he made, especially. The amount of work was horrendous, but he didn't mind it in exchange for what modicum of normalcy that he could have. Hajime didn't want to leave Hope's Peak. 

He briefly wondered if staying here would make him selfish if Hope's Peak was making Izuru miserable. And then he wondered if that really was the case. Izuru didn't cause trouble anymore because he wasn't happy, but that also meant that he wasn't bored, and not being bored was a bigger priority for Izuru than being happy.

"Think of it this way: As class president, you'll always have something interesting to do," Hajime said. "Ultimates are nothing like ordinary people, so they're more likely to do something unexpected."

"People are always predictable. Also, these people in particular are exhausting to deal with," Izuru grumbled.

"Better to be exhausted than be restless."

Izuru stared at Hajime, unblinking. Although his eyes were perpetually blank, a pair of red voids that betrayed nothing, the gears in his mind were always spinning. Maybe he figured out what Hajime was trying to do, maybe he was considering his words, maybe he was creating several debunking arguments, or maybe he was doing all of that simultaneously. But whatever he was thinking, Izuru finally said, "Fine."

"Fine?" Hajime said.

Izuru nodded. "I'll try being president. Having a leadership role will be a new experience at least."

A sensation of relief coursed through his body. Hajime couldn't help but smile. "It might do you some good being responsible for your classmates."

"If it makes my lovely housewife feel better, then of course."

His smile became strained. "I see that you must be feeling better if you can joke about that."

"I want another photo as compensation, though," Izuru added.

His smile fell. "Koizumi gave you enough photos."

"You know what photo I mean."

"Are you nuts?" Hajime shoved Izuru away and stood up. "There's no way I'd do that again!"

"Do what?" Yamamoto asked curiously.

"Nothing! It's nothing!"

But because Hajime was the worst when it came to not coddling his brother, he ended up complying with Izuru's demands. One of these days, Hajime was going to die with so many regrets weighing on him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tsumiki called Izuru Hinata-san-kun because she's still getting used to calling him Hinata-kun.


	7. Hajime's Days 6

Hajime hadn't been one to make a lot of friends. Actually, he hadn't been one to make any friends at all, so it had been a delightful surprise that he not only had befriended Koizumi and Yamamoto but also Watanabe Wataru.

"I know," Watanabe had said after introducing himself. "I have no idea what my parents were thinking either."

"Wow, and here I thought that Yamamoto Sato was bad enough," Yamamoto had said.

Watanabe was a well-liked classmate. All of the guys referred to him as Watawata, but Hajime didn't because, well, that was kind of stupid. But despite the unique (and unfortunate) name, Watanabe was as ordinary as the rest of the class. He looked like it too: mildly shaggy brown hair, droopy eyes, and average height and weight.

He was mellow and affable and wanted to enjoy his youth as much as he could, yet he also had a strong desire to become an elite. Most Reserve Course students did; they had applied here to become students of Hope's Peak Academy, after all. But for Watanabe, it was more of a driving force, hence why he had been the first person to approach Hajime with the intention of forming a study group with him.

Hajime hadn't put much thought into his placement in the class until Watanabe had talked to him. He had been vaguely aware that he had been somewhere at the top, but now he knew that he had been at _the_ top. That had been surprising to learn. Hajime wasn't an academic by any means; his high scores had been mostly due to pure effort and Izuru's tutoring, and that had made itself clear when Hajime had been stuck on several homework problems that he had been going over with Watanabe.

"Must be nice to have a genius help you out," Watanabe had said glumly.

"Must be nice not to have a genius to babysit all day every day," Hajime had evenly returned, to which Watanabe had responded with an "oof."

Nevertheless, Watanabe had continued to study with him. "It's better to do it with someone than do it alone," Watanabe had told him, and Hajime supposed that was true. Now that Izuru had stopped visiting him during break, he and Watanabe had begun to regularly go over their homework and study. Soon, Yamamoto and the rest of their classmates had joined in on their study sessions. For whatever problems that they couldn't solve, they would leave the task to Hajime to later ask Izuru.

Hajime objectively knew that his classmates were more or less using him, but he found that he didn't mind. These Reserves were doing whatever they could to stay afloat, and sometimes it would be a matter of desperation to use whatever resources they could get to not drown from their grueling workload. In Hajime's case, it didn't matter whether he performed well or not; he had Izuru by his side. 

That had been partly why he willingly helped his classmates. Where his classmates toiled meet their goals, Hajime didn't have to, so he might as well lend a hand. Aside from that, he actually enjoyed these study sessions. There was something peaceful and relaxing about twenty-something students furiously erasing and scribbling down answers and anxiously asking Hajime to go over his explanations. In another life, maybe he would have pursued teaching instead of...being whatever Izuru needed him to be. 

"Do you think you can live your life without your brother around?" Watanabe had once asked him sincerely. 

Hajime had taken a moment to consider that, and then responded honestly, "I have no idea."

Watanabe, unlike everyone else, hadn't teased or mocked him for that. Instead, he had fixed him a vaguely sad look. Hajime hadn't been able to decipher the meaning behind that look, and he still couldn't, but it had been what had led him to like the other boy for some reason.

* * *

A month had passed, and what a blissful month it had been.

With Izuru as class president, he had been too occupied to give Hajime any early gray hairs. Instead, he had been giving Koizumi gray hairs, which was fine with Hajime. Karma for taking all those incriminating photos. 

Yamamoto had often complained about how boring and tiring life had been, but that was because she didn't know how good she had it. A schedule to adhere to was essential for humans; without it, life would be discordant. And while going through a mountain of homework was always a pain, she should have known what she had been signing up for when she had started attending Hope's Peak as a Reserve.

Yes, this month had been good. There had been a few bumps here and there for sure, but, overall, it had been good. 

And then Koizumi showed up during lunch to apologize to him. 

Hajime blinked. "What?"

Koizumi gave him a pitying look. "You'll see."

Shortly after being told that, a large group of students—Main Course students, judging by their uniforms—marched right up to them. Hajime recognized Saionji, Mioda, and Tsumiki among the throng, and hesitantly waved when Mioda had hollered his name. Leading the group was a short rotund boy wearing a chef outfit. There was a notably irate expression on his face as he stormed in front of Hajime and demanded, "Are you Hinata Hajime?"

Hajime grimaced. "Who wants to know?"

"Me, Hanamura Teruteru! The Ultimate Chef!" the boy snapped, putting a strange emphasis on the word "chef." He thrust a finger between Hajime's brows, making Hajime go momentarily cross-eyed, and declared, "I challenge you to a cooking duel! Me versus you!"

"Um, what?"

"A cooking duel! A showdown to determine who can make the tastiest meal!"

Hajime heard the words, but he couldn't process them, mainly because he kept thinking: _why?_

He looked at Koizumi for help, but she had a hand pressed to her temple, shaking her head. He then looked at Yamamoto, who shrugged, appearing as confused as he felt. Finally, he reluctantly glanced at Izuru; of course, Izuru was of no help whatsoever since all he did was placidly stare back. 

Suddenly, a tall girl pushed her way past Hanamura to invade Hajime's space. "Hey, is it true?" she said, drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. Hajime cringed away from her. "That you make the best curry out there?"

"Impossible!" Hanamura cried out. "I'm the one who can make the best curry! Me! The _Ultimate_ _Chef_!"

"But Hinata said that his brother's curry is better than yours," a big burly guy said. Hajime nearly jumped in his seat when he heard that. Izuru said _what_?

"Oh, what does he know?" Saionji scoffed from somewhere within the group. "He's just a nasty brocon who probably carries around a photo of his brother like some sort of pervy creeper."

"That I do," Izuru said, using his impeccable timing to withdraw several pictures of Hajime. He fanned them out like he was holding cards and brandished them in the air. Everyone aside from Yamamoto and Koizumi gasped, shocked by how Izuru had easily confirmed Saionji's accusation. Hajime gasped because Izuru was outright making the situation worse for _both_ of them. This was freaking middle school all over again!

"Izuru!" Hajime snapped. "Put those away!"

"Eww! He _is_ a creeper!" Saionji shrieked.

"Not that I'm one to judge anyone's sexual preferences, but that right there is blatant bias!" Hanamura exclaimed. 

"They aren't like that," Koizumi huffed exasperatedly. "How many times do I have to say it?"

"He just whipped out a deck of photos of his brother!" the pink-haired boy shouted. "How else is that supposed to look?"

"Is this the infamous brotherly love I have heard so much about?" a foreigner girl marveled in startlingly clear Japanese. And as much as Hajime would like to awe at her fluency, he was more drawn to what she had just said. 

"No, Izuru and I aren't like that," Hajime insisted firmly. Why did people keep saying that? And in those exact words, no less?

"What we see now points to the contrary," said a fat boy, gesturing at Izuru. Hajime belatedly realized that not only was Izuru holding pictures, he was also using his thigh as a pillow. Damn it! He really was getting too used to this! Hajime hastily pushed himself onto his feet, causing Izuru to drop to the ground with a displeased grunt.

"It really isn't like that!" Hajime repeated.

"But Ibuki talked to Izuru-chan the other day and he told Ibuki all about your wifely duties," Mioda chimed in eagerly.

"How emasculating," someone mumbled.

Mioda carried on blithely, unaware of how she was further emasculating Hajime. "Like—like—like how you sew his ripped clothes and make him breakfast and make him lunch and—oh! Is that the bento that Hajime-chan made for Izuru-chan?"

"Ibuki-chan, I told you not to believe everything Hinata-kun tells you," Koizumi scolded.

"Everyone, what Mahiru-chan and Hinata-san say is true: The twins really aren't like that," Yamamoto said, smiling wanly. 

Unfortunately, the Ultimates were skeptical of that claim, which was stressing Hajime out. Hajime was even more stressed when he noticed that the foreigner girl and Mioda appeared particularly intrigued by Hajime and Izuru's apparent "closeness." Ugh, the Reserves were so much easier to convince! And they were normal people while at it! Why weren't a bunch of super gifted weirdos buying it?

Whatever. He would have to deal with that later. What was more important was this...cooking challenge that he had been issued. Hajime warily returned his attention to the chef and sighed, "Look, I think I see what the problem is here—"

"That your brother's bias is clouding his judgment on who can serve up the best dish?" Hanamura said, narrowing his eyes. 

"No—well, yes. Actually, yeah, that's right." Hajime ran a hand through his hair. "For some reason, Izuru doesn't like eating anything unless it's been prepared by me. He's picky like that. So, about him saying how my curry is better..."

To Hajime's immense relief, the anger faded from Hanamura's face, now replaced with a look of understanding. "I see. So, that's how it is," he murmured, rubbing his chin pensively. "I suppose if that's the case, then I'll rescind my—"

"But are you really going to leave it at that?" drawled a familiar voice. Feelings of dread knotted in Hajime's stomach when he recognized who that voice belonged to. As though parting the Red Sea, Komaeda calmly strode through the shifting crowd. He had an amicable smile plastered on, but it was fairly obvious to Hajime just how much of a facade it truly was.

"I mean, we still don't know who can make the better curry, right?" Komaeda said with an air of innocence. "Just because Hinata-kun prefers to eat his brother's cooking doesn't mean that his cooking isn't better. For that matter, because Hinata-kun is the Ultimate Hope, doesn't that imply that his brother does make the best curry?"

To an outsider, it might sound like Komaeda had given Hajime a compliment, but Hajime knew his angle. This bastard was trying to rile up Hanamura! For—for shit and giggles! Or hope! He didn't really know, but he knew that Komaeda was deliberately stirring up trouble for him. He had to act fast. "I'm just a Reserve Course student," Hajime countered. "That means that I don't have a talent, so it doesn't make sense that I'd be better at cooking than the Ultimate Chef himself!"

"But Hinata-kun explicitly said 'curry.' Just because you're not the Ultimate Chef doesn't mean that you can't make the ultimate curry."

What the hell? "Well, then, how come Hope's Peak didn't admit me as the Ultimate Curry Cook?"

"When your brother is the Ultimate Hope, of course you would pale in contrast!" Komaeda declared gleefully, spreading his arms. "That's why they never would have thought to scout you. Although, we don't know that for certain, do we? Perhaps we can use this opportunity to make that confirmation once and for all."

Hajime felt beads of perspiration dotting his forehead. As a last-ditch effort, he said, "Izuru is always telling me how substandard my cooking is! Tell them, Izuru."

Izuru, who was still lying on the ground, peered at Hajime with watery eyes and pouting lips, taking on the resemblance of a kicked puppy. "Hajime, your cooking will never be substandard to me," he replied coyly, casting metaphysical sparkles to glitter around him. 

Hajime had to use every ounce of restraint to not stomp on his face. 

"Is that so..." And, just like that, the fire of fight blazed in Hanamura's gaze again. "Then the challenge is on!" he shouted fervently. "I hereby announce that the curry showdown shall commence tomorrow at 6 PM! The one who gets the most votes will be the true curry master!"

"Alright!" the drooling girl cheered, punching the air. "I can't wait!"

"Kyaaa! Ibuki wants to try Hajime-chan's wifey home-style cooking!" Mioda enthused.

"I admit, this will be interesting," a girl with glasses added. 

As the Main Course students discussed among themselves, Komaeda shot Hajime a vaguely smug smirk. Meanwhile, Hajime was torn with indecision. While he knew that he ought to say more, to not surrender so soon, he felt his apathy push him to not bother. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yamamoto flipping Komaeda off. 

And that was how Hajime entered his second month of Hope's Peak—not so peacefully.

* * *

"So, I heard that you're having a cooking contest with the Ultimate Cook," Watanabe said.

Hajime groaned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tell them, Izuru."  
> "Tell them, Naegi."


	8. Hajime's Days 7

Word had gotten out fast. And by fast, that meant it's-been-an-hour-since-lunch-and-the-whole-department-knows fast. Which...made sense. If a bunch of Ultimates would come parading inside the Reserve Course division and make a racket, everyone would soon find out about it. Because of that, Hajime had garnered a bit of a celebrity status among his fellow Reserves.

It had been an hour and already there had been people talking to him about the curry showdown. They had congratulated him on pissing off an Ultimate, had asked him what he had done to piss off said Ultimate, and had expressed their admiration for doing the pissing-of-offness.

Students who were and weren't in his class had gathered around him and had bombarded him with all sorts of comments and compliments and inquiries. It had gotten to the point where Hajime had to scramble away to surface for air.

So, yes, he was now famous. 

As usual, Izuru waited for him outside of his classroom, but Hajime didn't bother slowing down as he hurried down the hall. 

"Hajime?" Izuru, of course, easily caught up to him. "You mad?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," Hajime snapped. "Of course I'm mad!"

"Well, you don't have to be too mad. If you're worried about the shopping, Hanamura said that he'll have the ingredients prepared for you as well as the cooking wares."

"You damn know well that's not what I'm mad about!"

Hajime had a lecture prepared ever since he and Izuru had parted ways after lunch. He wanted to yell at him for a lot of things, such as giving Hanamura the wrong impression about his cooking ability and not helping him get out of the situation. But before he could take a deep breath and let it all out, he noticed a head of fluffy white hair by the gates. Change of plans.

Hajime bustled past the doorways and the passing students, stopping short in front of Komaeda who smiled politely at him. "Hello, Hinata-san— _ack_!"

Without preamble, Hajime grabbed his tie and dragged him around the school. Izuru sauntered behind him while Komaeda was quick to drop pretenses, bellowing his remonstrances as though Hajime would give a shit. "Manhandling an Ultimate? You have some nerve, Reserve!" 

Once they were far from the other students, retreating to a relatively quiet area behind the building, Hajime finally let go. Komaeda stumbled away and glared hotly at him, grasping at his wrinkled tie. "I knew that Reserves were trash, but I didn't expect them to be so barbaric," he sniffed.

"What were you trying to pull back there?" Hajime demanded.

"Excuse me, but you were the one doing the pulling—"

"I mean with Hanamura," he cut him off impatiently. "Why the hell were you egging him on for?"

"Oh, that?" Komaeda's expression smoothed over with disinterest as if the topic had shifted to the weather. "What about it?"

"Don't answer my question with another question!"

Komaeda sneered. He opened his mouth to say something, but he fell quiet when Izuru suddenly grabbed his wrists and held them up, pointing his arms to the sky. While the luckster probably would have salivated at how the Ultimate Hope was touching him, he appeared more bemused by his actions. Hajime, likewise, was confused. 

"What are you doing?" Hajime asked.

"Helping you torture him for an answer," Izuru answered.

"Oh, so that's what you're doing!" Komaeda chuckled, wriggling his elbows uselessly. "I'm curious as to how Hinata-san will torture me."

Hajime fixed them a flat stare. "I'm not torturing anyone."

"But think about the tickling opportunities," Izuru haggled, and Komaeda stiffened in his hold.

"Ah."

After forcefully inducing peals of laughter from the Ultimate Lucky Student, Komaeda begged for Hajime to stop. Hajime did so and repeated his question, only to receive a deferential "suck my dick," and he resumed the tickling. Five minutes later, Komaeda laughed so hard that he inadvertently cut off his breathing while pushing out whatever air was left in his lungs, thus later rendering him unconscious.

Hajime pulled back with a grimace.

"He'll come to in a minute," Izuru said, unceremoniously dropping the boy.

"He's...surprisingly resistant." Hajime turned away from the prone body to look at his brother. "Can't we just wrap this up with you asking him directly?"

"You always got to take the boring way out," Izuru sighed, dismayed.

"We'll be here all night if we keep doing this," Hajime deadpanned.

When Komaeda woke up, Izuru squatted next to him and demanded, "Where are the goods?"

"Izuru!"

"What?" Komaeda peered at him blearily.

"Your stash? Where are they?" Izuru yanked on his collar and said to his face, "I know you got them lying around."

"Stop that," Hajime hissed, pushing him aside. "That's hardly relevant to anything!"

"St-stash? What stash?" Komaeda's eyes widened. "If you may elaborate, Hinata-kun, I'll gladly give you it!"

Izuru narrowed his eyes. "Anything? Do you promise?" 

Komaeda beamed. "Anything for the Ultimate Hope!" he enthused. "What would you like? My money? My heirlooms? My mansion?"

Hajime whipped his head at him. He had a _what_?

"I want something more dear than that," Izuru drawled.

Komaeda pushed himself upright, his grin practically splitting his face. "And what's that?"

"Your word."

He faltered. "My...word?"

"Your honest word," Izuru continued, nodding. "Your honest answer to whatever Hajime asks from you."

Komaeda wilted, now frowning. "Oh."

"And since you promised that you'd do anything for me, you have to hold up your end." Izuru stood up and brushed off his pants. "Anyway, I'll be taking my leave. Good luck, Hajime."

Hajime gaped at him. "Wait, you're _leaving_?"

"Yeah."

" _Willingly_?"

"It's either staying with you or staying away from him," Izuru told him with utmost seriousness. "It was a difficult decision to make, but I don't want to be around someone who reeks of decay."

"Izuru," Hajime gasped, mortified by his brother's crassness, "I told you not to say those things!"

"You said not to say them to old people."

"Don't say it to anyone, you jerk!"

"It's fine!" Komaeda interrupted, sounding not at all offended by the remark. "It's no surprise that the Ultimate Hope knows that I'm dying!"

"Oh my gosh." Hajime covered his face. 

"You look like you're dying," Izuru said with total disregard for niceties. "You're a walking flesh bag of maladies—both metaphorical and literal."

"I am!"

"So, yeah. Adios." With that said, Izuru stalked away. 

A heavy silence followed. Hajime didn't need to see Komaeda's face to know just how dismayed he was to watch Izuru go; the disappointment rolled off of the guy in waves.

At this point, Hajime couldn't be surprised. He hardly knew Komaeda—outside of what Izuru had divulged, which probably shouldn't count as knowing a person—but he already figured that the luckster would bounce back after that disaster of a dinner party. There was no way that he could contain his elation in being around the Ultimate Hope—that was the strong impression that Komaeda had made on him.

And as expected, Komaeda had been happy to see Izuru. Not once had he appeared subdued or awkward around him despite the tongue lashing that Komaeda had received from his beloved classmate. Maybe they had made up prior to now; could be possible. It wasn't as if Izuru told Hajime everything that he did.

(But with Izuru outright calling him a flesh bag of... Well, maybe the reconciliation was one-sided.)

Hajime dismissed the thought. Never mind that. Izuru had given him an opportunity to question Komaeda, so he ought to get right to it. And the sooner he finished, the sooner he could start yelling at Izuru. 

"So," Hajime began, "what's the deal?"

Komaeda sighed. "You know, for being the brother of the—"

"No, don't. Answer— _now_."

"I wanted to inspire hope!" Komaeda said cheerfully, his mood abruptly switching. Hajime nearly got a whiplash. "An untalented boy facing an Ultimate will no doubt yield the obvious results, but to see him struggle and attempt to persevere despite the odds will be a dawning of a brand new hope for him! That's why people root for the underdogs—they want to see them overcome that despair with hope."

"You just want to see me make a fool of myself," Hajime interpreted.

"No, no, you got it all wrong. You don't need this competition to do that." Was he implying that Hajime already looked like an idiot? "I just want to see your hope shine through! To see how a Reserve such as yourself can manage against the Ultimate Cook will no doubt be inspirational as it is interesting."

He narrowed his eyes. "Seriously?"

Komaeda smiled placidly. "Seriously."

"I'm being dragged into this mess because of your whims?"

"It's not a whim—"

"You egged on Hanamura to publicly challenge me to a contest where his talent is known for...just to see what will happen."

"It's all because of hope—"

"Screw you," Hajime spat, standing up. "And to think that I felt bad for you. Screw you!"

Komaeda burst out into fits of derisive laughter. "Aw, did you really? Well, don't feel too bad; I wouldn't have a leech to pity me despite how pitiable I truly am."

"Ugh!" In disgust, Hajime grabbed his bag and marched away. Komaeda's laughter continued to echo behind him. 

When he returned to the dorms, Izuru latched onto him, snaking his arms around his waist and drawing him in close. Hajime drove a fist to his cheek. 

"Did your talk with Komaeda go well?" Izuru asked as though he was talking about the weather.

Hajime tried to strangle him via hair.

* * *

"Yo, Watawata, I'll pay you back tomorrow," said their classmate, waving a can of juice in his hand.

"Sure thing," Watanabe said.

"With how much money you spent on your tuition, how do you afford to make these regular trips to the vending machine?" Hajime wondered as they walked back to their class.

Watanabe arched a brow. "How do you?" 

My brother bought my tuition, Hajime didn't say aloud. By winning the lottery, he also didn't say.

Like yesterday, the Reserves stopped to talk to him about the contest. However, unlike yesterday, Hajime wasn't overwhelmed by the attention and was able to calmly impart to them that, no, he was not a mystical curry god and, no, he would not serve them any curry because the only curry he could make was the store-brand kind. Everyone already knew the taste of store-brand curry. Some of them were disappointed and some of them were skeptical by his assertions. Hajime didn't give a crap.

The skeptics had insisted on seeing the contest anyway. Hajime figured that most of the Reserves were going to spectate regardless.

"It'd be interesting," Watanabe admitted. "I mean, just how often do you see a Reserve going face-to-face with an Ultimate?"

Hajime fixed him a look. "You do realize that the Reserve Course has been established for only a month, right?"

While there were admirers, there were also pricks who ridiculed him for taking on the big leagues. 

"He challenged me!" Hajime shouted when they ambled away. "I didn't want anything to do with this!"

Watanabe reeled him back. "Let it go, man."

Okay, so maybe Hajime was still a bit high-strung by the attention. He didn't mean to lash out and seethe whenever someone approached him, but his peaceful school days had been forcibly ripped from him just because of a mere misunderstanding. Freaking Izuru. Freaking Komaeda.

"Are you not going to participate?" Yamamoto asked.

"I don't want to, but I wouldn't be able to convince Hanamura that my curry is as bland as Izuru's face," Hajime said.

Yamamoto and Watanabe traded looks. "You're identical twins," Yamamoto saw fit to inform him.

Hajime nodded. "Yeah, I know."

When lunchtime came around, Hajime and Yamamoto reconvened with Izuru and Koizumi at their usual spot. Izuru lunged, but Hajime was prepared to block him. Unfortunately, Izuru being Izuru, Izuru already predicted this and ducked from Hajime's outstretched hands. He then propelled himself forward to tackle at Hajime's midsection, and the two skidded across the ground from the force of that charge.

"Quit playing around," Koizumi snapped. "We have things to discuss."

Koizumi relayed to them about how excited Class 77-B was for the competition to begin. Hanamura, in particular, had monopolized the Main Course kitchen to cook all day to get himself pumped up (while Hajime was stuck in class, taking notes like the good boy that he was).

None of Hanamura's dishes had been curry since getting a head start would be cheating, as Hanamura had told his class. Hajime, however, didn't care. What difference would it make whether Hanamura practiced beforehand or not? It wouldn't change the outcome.

Hajime's curry was _store-brand._ Store-freaking-brand.

Store-brand!

"But enough about them. What are you going to do?" Koizumi asked.

"He said that he's going to make curry as bland as his brother's face," Yamamoto answered for him, her tone just as bland as his purported curry.

Koizumi gave Hajime a look. "You're twins."

Hajime returned her look. "Yeah, I know." Why did people have to point out the obvious? 

"So you're not going to try at all?"

"Look, people have this totally out-of-blown misconception of me being a curry aficionado, and that's not an image I want to carry around. And even if I did bother to try, how can I possibly one-up someone known as the _Ultimate Chef_?"

"You'll always be the Ultimate Chef in my heart, Hajime," Izuru said, gently placing a hand on Hajime's shoulder. 

Hajime swatted him away. "You're the reason I got into this mess, asshole!"

"You could make Hinata-kun put on contacts and a wig and cook in your place," Yamamoto suggested.

"Then that'd be feeding the lie that I want to get cleared up in the first place!"

"His blood pressure is rather high," Izuru said. "Don't mention curry anymore; otherwise, he'll pass out from stress."

" _You're_ the source of my stress—!"

Lunch came and went, and so did the remaining hours of class. As the clock hands ticked closer and closer to 6 PM, Hajime felt his anxiety climb levels. His plan was straightforward and easy, but why did he feel so nervous? 

Maybe it had to do with how there was a stage set up in the middle of the Reserve Course division (courtesy of the Ultimate Mechanic, apparently). Maybe it had to do with how there was a mixed crowd of Reserves and Ultimates gathered below. Maybe it had to do with the banners and hollers made by the Reserves that were meant to cheer Hajime on. The pressure was immense. 

Hajime felt himself sweat profusely under the harsh artificial lights that glared down at him. To the side, there was a separate table for the judges—a group of Ultimates who he recognized as Izuru and Koizumi's classmates. How did the Main Course convince the faculty into letting this happen, he had no idea, but he suspected Izuru being the culprit.

He stood on the right side of the stage with a reflective steel countertop set before him. On it was fresh fruits and vegetables, beneath it was canned food items and pots and pans, and behind it were a fridge and more wares that hung on the walls. On the other side, Hanamura was equally equipped.

Seriously, how did they get permission to set up all this? And when? And, for that matter, why the hell did they have to go all out? This was ridiculous. They were just making curry, people!

"Good luck, Hinata-kun," crooned Komaeda who stood the closest to the stage. 

Hajime took a page out of Yamamoto's book and flipped him off.

After an introductory greeting, the Ultimate MC—yes, they really did go all out; holy shit—called for both cooks to shake hands to signify a fair competition. Hanamura smirked up at Hajime and shook his hand, but he didn't release without rubbing his thumb across his skin. "May the best man win, cutie," the chef growled playfully, winking. 

Hajime yanked his hand back with lightning speed, a chill running down his spine.

When the formalities were over, Hajime trudged back to his station as though he was walking towards his execution. His gaze swept across the throng and incidentally landed on Komaeda again, who smiled and waved. Hajime scowled and turned away.

"Chefs," the MC began with cheer, "on your marks... Get set... Go!"


	9. Hajime's Days 8

Hanamura called his curry "curry des étoiles dansantes," which Hajime had no idea what that meant much less understand why the Ultimate would give an Indian dish a French title. One thing was clear, however, was that a bite of his curry would send stars dancing in people's eyes. 

"Oh my!" exclaimed the foreigner girl, placing a hand on her cheek. "This is exquisite!"

"Seconds! I want seconds!" demanded the drooling girl from before (who was incidentally drooling now) as she waved an already empty plate. 

"This certainly is the best curry that I have ever eaten," commended the fat boy with wide eyes. "I'm inspired to create a cooking anime now."

Hanamura preened under the judges' compliments. Hajime peered over at their table to see what they were eating. Frankly, the curry looked like any other curry—mushy and brown, albeit the aroma wafting in the air was very enticing; Hajime's mouth watered just by one whiff alone. 

"And, now, presenting Hinata Hajime's curry!" announced the Ultimate MC when it was Hajime's turn to serve. When the three judges scooped up the curry and took a bite, their excited anticipation simultaneously shuttered into that of dismay.

"Oh..." mumbled the foreigner girl, her brows knitting. "It is delicious, but it's somehow lacking..."

"Hm. Not as good as Hanamura's," concluded the drooling girl, frowning down at her plate. "But I still want seconds."

"It really isn't as good as Hanamura's," concurred the fat boy. "My inspiration is now dead."

Whispers aroused below when the spectators heard the judges' remarks. Hajime caught snatches of "Reserve Course student" and "of course he wouldn't win" and "pitiful" as he stood solemnly under everyone's scrutiny. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Hanamura was no longer smiling. 

"Wait, this isn't right," he heard Hanamura say.

What wasn't right? The fact that he won so easily? The fact that a Reserve couldn't pose a challenge to him in his own field of expertise? Hajime fully turned his head to see Hanamura's expression. The short boy's face was contorted into wide-eyed disbelief as he observed the judges' disappointment.

Disbelief. How ridiculous. The Ultimate Chef couldn't have possibly expected a competition, did he? This was essentially a public humiliation for Hajime. 

One that Hajime had been well-aware of the moment he had allowed himself to be swept away by the circumstance's inanity. Or, rather, the moment he had set foot on the stage and stood before the audience. While he had made home with his indifference to such a thing, Hajime admittedly did feel slightly guilty by how his fellow Reserves' hope had hinged on his success. 

The cheers dimmed and the banners fell. Just like how his nervousness had waned to somber acceptance, so did the bubbling optimism of half of the crowd. 

Well, that was that. Hajime lost just as he had expected and had wanted. Now he could return to his peaceful life of monotony and obscurity—as obscure as one could be when the brother of the Ultimate Hope. A small flare of delight kindled within him when he thought about talking to Yamamoto and Watanabe again, about the regular study meetings held at break—the same old, same old. 

Despite his concern about how this contest would affect his relationship with his classmates, Hajime was looking forward to tomorrow. Maybe—just maybe—everything would go back to normal. Perhaps not anytime soon, but eventually, right? Then Hajime could resume his tranquil, quiet days without dealing with the headache that took shape and form of his brother. 

"I cannot ascertain as to why Hinata-kun would deny himself the opportunity to try Hanamura-san's cooking," the foreign girl said. "Could it be love that withholds him?"

The fat boy scoffed. "That's a bit of a stretch—"

"That's right."

Izuru's voice pierced through the din like a knife slicing through butter. Everyone fell silent, and Hajime stiffened in wariness. Oh, great. _Now what?_

Izuru floated towards the front of the crowd, his long hair billowing after him like a cape. With one graceful leap, he bounded between Hajime and Hanamura on top of the stage, and then snatched the microphone from the Ultimate MC. With bated breath, everyone stared at Izuru as he brought the microphone to his lips. 

"Wait, wait," Hajime tried intervene. "Izuru, whatever you're thinking—" However, he, in turn, was cut off by Izuru's hand splayed on his face.

"Everyone believes that perfection is shaped by what you can best derive pleasure from," said Izuru as he unceremoniously shoved Hajime out of the way. "Whether that be a musical performance that delivers the right harmony and pitch. Whether that be a dance that comprises movements of precision and grace."

Izuru motioned at Hanamura. "Or, in this case, cooking—where an assembly of ingredients and techniques can create a sensational tasting experience," he continued. 

Izuru strutted across the stage and waved his arm meaningfully, looking every bit like a man giving a motivational speech to a group of aimless college students majoring in philosophy. "True, one may think that perfection can be achieved in such a way—accuracy, experience, _talent_ —but I say that's wrong!"

Gasps swept across the area at the bald-faced proclamation. 

"When it comes to the arts, perfection is a subjective notion. It's not something that can be confined by arbitrary rules designed to pigeonhole creations based on alleged objectivity; it's meant to be freeing. To go against that freedom is to go against the very essence of art." Izuru suddenly thrust his finger vaguely into the audience. "Art is not a tool to fuel the evil that is consumerism!"

Consumer— _what_?

Hajime stared at him, jaw agape, bewildered. 

"Art has always been intended to be a form of expression since the dawn of time. By boxing it in your trifling definition of perfection, however, you strip away the integral properties of what makes art _art_ , leaving behind a mere husk. What good is art when you can't evoke emotion?"

Izuru blathered on about the connection that art should have with emotion, which...didn't make sense. This was a freaking cooking contest, not an art gallery; they had been making _curry_ , not soul-shaking sculptures or paintings. Hajime was so confounded by what Izuru was saying (and saying out of his ass, obviously) that he nearly missed the fact that not one person had spoken up against him. 

The audience, the judges, the MC, and even Hanamura stared at Izuru, riveted by his animated gestures and words. Hajime didn't know how or why that was; the things that Izuru was saying really didn't make sense overall. His brother was forming inspirational-sounding lines and stringing them together to make a nonsensical speech that seemed relevant when it wasn't. 

But then Hajime remembered that being the brother of Izuru meant being able to see past a lot of his bullshit. The others weren't so fortunate as they were hanging onto his every word, like attendees listening to a preacher giving his sermon. Hajime chanced a glance at Komaeda, not surprised to see the luckster clutching onto a handkerchief while looking as though he was nearing enlightenment. 

"But there is one thing that you cannot squander," Izuru eventually said, his voice solemn, "and that is love."

Oh, for goodness sake—

"Where Hanamura's curry may be objectively more delicious, it was created with the intention of winning. But would the taste of success be comparable to the taste of love?"

Finally, someone spoke up. "Wha-what do you mean?" Hanamura blurted, aghast. "I put a lot of love into all of my dishes!"

"Yes, the love to appease those who you cater," Izuru intoned. "The love to see how your cooking affects them. The love to know that your talent reigns superior. But," he hissed into the mic before he boomed, "that's not the kind of love I'm talking about!"

" _Michael Jackson_!"

"The love I'm referring to is the love that is filled with warmth and comfort, of familiarity and serenity. When you eat Hajime's curry, do you not feel that?"

Somehow, his words struck a chord in one of the judges. The drooling girl, who had indeed gotten seconds upon her request, made a half-aborted noise, unwittingly drawing attention to herself. She took another bite of the curry, and then said in a wobbly voice, "Y-you're right... This does taste like the curry that my mom would make."

That was because your mother likely used the same store-brand stuff, thought Hajime.

The fat boy looked at her in askance before diving into his own half-finished plate. His eyes widened. "Ah, I remember now..." he said, his whisper echoing above the audience from the speakers. "This taste—it's the same taste that I get after eating a celebratory curry for finishing before a deadline. Is this love...?"

That's not love; that's relief, thought Hajime. 

"Oh, is this what you may call authentic Japanese curry?" the foreigner girl marveled after delicately nibbling on a spoonful.

That's...accurate, Hajime allowed begrudgingly. 

Murmurs broke out among the audience again, but this time they were full of intrigue and wonder. To Hajime's despair, banners were hoisted into the air again as eyes gleamed with renewed optimism. 

"I think I understand now," the foreigner girl said. "The reason as to why Hinata-kun would only eat Hinata-san's cooking..." Trepidation tricked down Hajime's spine. Don't say it, he chanted fervently in his head. _Don't say it!_ "...is because of love!"

And she said it.

"Love triumphs everything, including perfection!" the foreigner girl declared passionately, throwing her hand out to punctuate her point. "It pains me to say this, but I have long forgotten this crucial fact of life ever since I entered the academy. In the duration of my stay here, I endeavored to become the best princess that I can be, yet I have lost sight of my true purpose—to become the best princess _for my people_! Because I love my people and I will do whatever I can for my people.

"Is love not the driving force that compels us to do the things that we desire?" the girl went on. She brought a fist to her heart as her gaze glimmered under the lights. "Our love for not just our talents, but the love for those who we wish to support!"

"You know, the reason that I accepted coming here was because I wanted to financially help my family," the drooling girl said, her brows furrowed. "I wouldn't be able to do all this if I didn't love my mom and siblings."

"I threw my everything in my talent because that's the only thing I've got going for me," the fat boy said. He frowned thoughtfully. "Could that be love?"

No, it isn't, thought Hajime.

"It very well can be!" the foreigner girl exclaimed. "Is love not the root cause for anything that we do? It can be the love for others and the love for oneself, and that is just as important." She then faced the stage, smiling radiantly. "It is thanks to Hinata-kun and Hinata-san that I have been reminded of this. As such, I give you my sincerest gratitude."

Pinpricks sprouted across Hajime's skin. This was absurd. Absolutely ridiculous! The contest wasn't supposed to go down like this! It was supposed to be quick and easy: Hanamura winning and Hajime losing. That way, Hajime would be able to carry on his peaceful high school life without having the asinine renown of him trumping an Ultimate hanging over his head. 

He even had accounted for Izuru finding the contest too stultifying to bother coming. But, alas, Izuru had appeared and had turned the tables at Hajime's expense. Hajime was so peeved by his brother's wholly unwelcoming interference that he couldn't find it within himself to muster any words. He looked at Hanamura, hoping that the chef could make any arguments against this folly.

"I came here to hone my abilities and make a name for myself," Hanamura said softly, ducking his head so that his eyes were shadowed. "I never did forget why, though. I—I wanna save da diner... I wanna save my ma..." A tense silence followed, but then... "That's—that's love!" he burst out, raising his head high and revealing a pair of burning eyes. He thrust his fists in the air, yelling, "I will be the best chef in existence! I'll be making food that'll get all the ladies wet and the guys hard after one bite! If I can't manage that, then what's the point in me being here?"

Suddenly, Hanamura turned to Hajime and said with a wry grin, "But there is no point in me doing anything if there's no love? And without love, you got no passion. That is why..." The chef bowed at his waist. "Hinata Hajime, I concede defeat."

"What," Hajime said.

"There you have it, folks!" the Ultimate MC (who had gotten the mic again) shouted in an excited pitch. "The winner of Hope's Peak first curry showdown _is_...Hinata Hajime from the Reserve Course! Give it up!"

The audience was in an uproar. Protests and objections and hollered disapproval were thrown into the amalgamation of cheers and elated cries. Either way, it didn't matter. As confetti rained down on the stage and a celebratory light show glittered from behind, Hajime remained in place, expression stony. He didn't move even when the Ultimate MC shoved a trophy into his arms, even when the judges lined up to shake his hand, even when Hanamura congratulated him with a pinch on the buttocks. 

"All this excitement is tiring," Izuru yawned as he sidled next to Hajime. "Let's go."

Hajime stifled the urge to whack his brother with the trophy.

Curse Izuru and his Ultimate Bullshitting powers.

* * *

The Reserves were so drunk on Hajime's victory that they petitioned for him to become the Ultimate Curry Cook. 

The headmaster wisely rejected the idea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Izuru: Thank you for coming to my TED talk. 
> 
> Hajime: (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻


	10. Chisa's Days 1

Chisa confidently strode down the hall, warm nostalgia filling her as she took in the red carpeted floor and the row of windows. It was as though it had been just yesterday that she, Kyousuke, and Juzo had walked these halls, talking and laughing and going about their days. And now here she was, a teacher assistant of Class 77-B.

It was fortunate that she had managed to secure this job. Now that she was in, she was going to give it her all to play her part. She wasn't going to let her beloved Kyousuke down, after all. 

With a thrum of excitement, she slid open the door and cheerfully greeted, "Good morning, everyone!"

And then she paused to process the scene before her. 

There was a boy hanging from the ceiling, tied up in a rather...risque manner. Pointedly ignoring the expression of ecstasy on the boy's face, there was a girl positioning a large empty bowl below him, and another boy—Chisa took a fraction of a second longer to note that the person with the long, pretty hair was indeed a boy—brandishing a _sword_ above his head. A few feet away from them was a person tied up and muffled who looked at her with tearful, pleading eyes. 

The long-haired boy and the girl slowly turned their heads and looked at her.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Chisa asked, unnerved.

"Committing murder," the long-haired boy informed her.

Thirty minutes later, Chisa learned that the hanging boy was Hanamura Teruteru, the Ultimate Cook, and the tied-up boy was Souda Kazuichi, the Ultimate Mechanic.

The girl, Tsumiki Mikan, bawled about not knowing that she had been playing as the perpetrator's accomplice; apparently, she had been duped into thinking that she had been assisting in performing an alternative blood draw. Which really didn't make sense. How could the Ultimate _Nurse_ be convinced into believing something so blatantly _medically false_?

The answer took the shape and form of none other than Hinata Izuru, the perpetrator and the Ultimate Hope.

Kyousuke had warned her that Hinata was known to be off-the-wall peculiar, but Chisa honestly hadn't been expecting this.

"No one will ever understand my brand of humor," Hinata lamented in the blandest tone Chisa had ever heard. 

She didn't know if Hinata was being sarcastic or serious; either way, she couldn't let him off the hook just yet. "Pretending to gut your classmates is not funny whatsoever," Chisa chided, wagging a finger, "especially not when they believed that you really were going to gut them!"

"We didn't," intoned the rest of the class.

"I did!" sputtered Souda.

"Hinata-kun can penetrate his sword in me wherever he likes," Hanamura insisted. "In fact, he can do it right in my—"

"Don't mind Hinata-kun, Yukizome-sensei. He's always pulling stunts like this one," Koizumi, the Ultimate Photographer, sighed, shaking her head. "It's just one way for him to alleviate his boredom."

Chisa was baffled. Had she heard that right? "What?"

As it turned out, she had. 

After teaching Class 77-B for a week, Chisa concluded that Hinata Izuru was, in a nutshell, a weirdo. 

* * *

It wasn't that Chisa disliked Hinata; she liked him just fine. He was a smart and responsible young man, which was a given seeing how he was the Ultimate Hope. He pulled the class together despite the optional attendance policy, and he got along well (sort of) with everyone. 

Hinata was an exemplary class president, and, with Koizumi by his side as his vice-president, his leadership had brought his classmates under one cohesive and amicable unity. This was honestly the kind of class that Chisa had thought only existed in dreams, and she was forever grateful for Hinata's work that her first time teaching would be smooth sailing (relatively speaking). 

Of course, there didn't exist a perfect human being (despite what Hinata's title might imply), so it came as no surprise that Hinata had his own eccentricities to balance out his plethora of talents. As Kyousuke liked to say, every genius had his own brand of crazy, and Hinata certainly wasn't exempt from this rule. 

Just the other day, Chisa had witnessed another student attempting to engage Hinata in a conversation about politics (of all things for high schoolers to discuss). However, Hinata had shut down the Ultimate Politician (honestly, who else could she be?) by saying, "Not on my Minecraft server. This genre is slice-of-life, not seinen."

When Chisa had later confronted Hinata about that, he had given her his usual dead-fish-eyes gaze and said, "The substance of this piece will deviate from any controversial material in order to create a welcoming space for everyone regardless of beliefs or ideologies. Nonetheless, should said piece dive into looped-fingers-insert-finger territory, I will gladly jump on that wagon."

"What?" she had replied.

"Have a nice day, sensei."

It had taken Chisa a day to parse out a fragment of what the boy had meant by that, and the only thing she had been able to postulate had been Hinata's, uh, eagerness to...to... Never mind... 

That had been Hinata at his tamest, frankly. 

She would like to say that his extreme had been when she had first entered Class 77-B's homeroom, but, no, him pretending (hopefully) to disembowel his classmate was somewhere in the mid-range of his scale of weirdness. 

One of his antics—and one that she could never forget—had been when she had waltzed inside the homeroom one morning and had smacked her forehead against something hard. When she had pulled back, she had found herself looking at _herself_ —or, rather, a wooden effigy of herself hanging upside down from the ceiling.

The resemblance was so uncanny that Chisa hadn't been able to rein in a shriek. And when she had looked around to see more hanging effigies, she had shrieked some more.

With mounting horror, she had caught Hinata hacksawing Kuzuryuu's replica before collapsing onto her knees. In her defense, she hadn't actually registered that the effigies had been, well, effigies at the time, so the sight of seeing Hinata vigorously decapitating his classmate had been a frightening one. Chisa had nearly peed herself silly because she had been so scared!

Soon, his classmates had trickled inside. Some of them had gasped, startled, but had been quick to regain their composure. Some of them had been disgruntled by how cramped the room was. Kuzuryuu hadn't appreciated seeing his effigy's decapitation, so he had cursed Hinata out. Meanwhile, Sonia and Tanaka had expressed their elation that their class president had gotten started on the ritual. 

"What ritual?" Chisa had demanded, her voice pitched high in her distress.

"We are planning on summoning a demon!" Sonia had replied, ecstatic.

Suffice to say, the ritual had not commenced. Chisa hated being the no-fun teacher, but summoning _demons_ of all things was just crossing the line.

For a dutiful yet reticent class president, Hinata was oddly compliant in fulfilling many of his classmates' requests. 

For Mioda, he had constructed a guitar that shot out miniature fireworks. For Nidai, he had joined his (hellish) training regimen. For Saionji, he had played the koto for her recital. For Souda, he had played as his wingman (however successful that went even with the Ultimate Hope's aid). For Mitarai, he had involved himself in a discussion about anime archetypes (which he had displayed an unexpected passion for tsunderes). 

For Nanami, he had played an intense two-player fighting game for three hours straight; they had still been playing their first match as neither of them had lost nor won. However, as soon as the bell had rung, Hinata had up and left, leaving Nanami the winner by forfeit.

Nanami hadn't been pleased by how their match had been cut off in such a way, but she hadn't protested. No one did whenever Hinata would drop everything and leave the second the bell would ring. 

"Where does he go?" Chisa had wondered.

Koizumi, who would tail after Hinata to drag him back when the bell would ring again, had sighed and said, "To his brother."

Chisa had already known that Hinata had a brother—a twin from the Reserve Course, in fact, according to his file. But to think that the boy would religiously make his way over to the academy's adjacent department just to visit his brother was a curious thing to note.

Seeing Hinata not abiding his classmates' requests or pulling any other destructive antics just to allay his boredom? Chisa had been very curious indeed. 

Chisa didn't make a habit of butting into her students' business (usually), but watching Hinata leave the class without delay every day had begun to gnaw at her. And her overactive imagination, fueled by Sonia and Mioda's giggling whispers, had spiraled her brain down in the gutters. She hadn't wanted to think this way, especially about a boy who she taught, and yet... Could this be the infamous brotherly love she had heard so much about?

In any case, there was her directive to prioritize above all else, which _could_ coincide with her sating her curiosity. Hope's Peak was planning something big, and this something was related to the Reserve Course. Being a Main Course teacher, Chisa had little to no access to any information in the other department, so her only hope in learning more was hearing it secondhand from a Reserve. 

And what better way to do that than to associate herself with Hinata's brother? It was perfect! Not only would she get her intel, but she would also get to meet the infamous brother who had Hinata skedaddling in and out of the classroom. She would be killing two birds with one stone!

And it had been then that Chisa had learned about how extreme Hinata could go. 

* * *

When Chisa had asked Koizumi if she could eat with her and her friends, a series of emotions flashed across Koizumi's face: surprise, confusion, suspicion, and then understanding. 

"You want to meet Hinata-san," Koizumi figured. 

Chisa smiled sheepishly. "Guilty as charged," she laughed, rubbing the back of her head. 

The girl nodded. "Makes sense. You've been our teacher for almost a month, after all. Just so you know, Hinata-san isn't anything like his brother. He's not so bad for a boy; he can be pretty reliable," she said. That was surprising to hear from Koizumi. For a girl who was consistently critical of what boys did, she was giving out high praises for this Hinata Hajime.

"Then may I join?" Chisa asked, bouncing on her heels. 

"I don't see why not. I'll admit, it's kind of strange eating with a teacher, but, then again, you're not your average teacher." Koizumi smiled wryly at that. 

"I'll take that as a compliment," she beamed. 

"Good, because it was one. Oh, and don't worry about asking for Hinata-kun's permission; he won't care either way."

Hinata generally didn't care about much of anything. Aside from his brother, as Chisa had heard. 

As always, Hinata didn't wait for Koizumi, promptly marching out of the door by the time the bell had rung. Koizumi and Chisa walked behind at an easy pace, never losing sight of the boy despite having to weave through a throng of students and teachers. Chisa followed her students out of the building and to the Reserve Course Department. 

She half-expected the Reserve students to ogle at them, bewildered by their presence, but they had done nothing of the sort. Although, perhaps that was to be expected; Hinata and Koizumi regularly ventured out here, so the Reserves would have already become accustomed to seeing a few Ultimates wandering onto their side of the academy. Chisa, on her part, didn't refrain herself from surveying the area, taking in the sea of black uniforms instead of brown. 

Chisa rolled her head back, turning her eyes upward. She had thought that since the buildings had been completed last year, the place would have been impressive. Instead, compared to the Main Course buildings, the Reserve Course buildings weren't as captivating to behold. Rather, the rectangular structure and concrete walls made the department appear terribly dull. The layout was sparse, utilitarian, reminding her of an unfurnished house. 

There was none of the vibrancy that Chisa had adored about Hope's Peak. A wave of sadness crashed over her. To think that all these students had paid a hefty sum to enter Japan's number one high school only to be holed up in a place like this. 

She furtively shook her head. No, now wasn't the time to get sad. She couldn't display any sadness when meeting Hinata's brother. 

The trio continued their trek across the campus until they neared a fountain. Sitting by it were two students—a boy and a girl. The pair lifted their heads, and their lips parted to say something upon noticing Hinata and Koizumi, but they abruptly fell silent when their befuddled gazes landed on Chisa. 

Chisa immediately recognized the boy as Hinata's twin. 

She hadn't expected Hinata Hajime to be a carbon copy of his brother, but...she hadn't expected him to be so generic-looking either.

Not that was a bad thing! Not everyone got to hit the genetic lottery and looked like they strutted down the runway out of their mother's womb. Which was a little disorienting when Hinata looked like he had while having the same exact face as his seemingly plain-faced brother. 

How was it that they were identical twins and yet they appeared dissimilar at the same time? Was it Hinata's billowy hair? His ruby eyes? Was it the air that he emanated? Like he was an untouchable higher being? Perhaps all his features attributed to his overall prettiness? Meanwhile, Hinata Hajime's short hair and hazel eyes and unassuming demeanor made him look like someone who could fade into the background. 

If this was a BL manga, the older brother would definitely be the bottom. 

Ack. No. Stop it, Chisa. 

(She needed to stop eavesdropping on her students' conversations.)

Chisa slapped on a sunny smile and opened her mouth to impart a greeting, but her words were cut short when Hinata suddenly sprang forward and wrapped his arms around his brother's waist. The brother grunted and frowned upon impact. Hinata, who had already dropped to his knees, proceeded to rub his face on his brother's stomach like a cat begging for affection.

Chisa, smile still in place, froze.

"Hinata-kun, not in front of Yukizome-sensei," Koizumi snapped, latching onto the back of his jacket and yanking him away. 

Hinata pouted— _he pouted!_ —and said, "I don't see why I should restrain myself just because our teacher is here."

( _"restrain myself"_ echoed in Chisa's head like a church bell.)

"Um, your teacher? Why is your teacher here?" the Reserve girl asked, shooting Chisa an inquisitive glance. 

Chisa jolted as though she had been electrocuted. "Heya!" she said. "My name is Yukizome Chisa, Class 77-B's homeroom teacher! Well, technically, homeroom teacher assistant, but Kizakura-sensei saw fit to let me run the class by myself. Anywho, it's a pleasure to meet the friends of my beloved students! May I get to know your names?"

"Ya-Yamamoto Sato," the girl replied, blinking owlishly.

"Hinata Hajime," Hinata Hajime added a tad stiffly. 

Chisa grinned. "Yamamoto-san and Hinata-kun! Oh, people refer to you as Hinata-san, don't they? In any case, I hope that I'm not intruding. I heard bits and pieces about you guys that I've been itching for a meeting."

"Saints above," Hinata Hajime lamented, burying his face in his hands. Yamamoto consolingly patted his back.

Chisa stared, bemused. "Uh, did I say something wrong...?"

"Hinata-san, no one mentioned to her about the contest. Calm down," Koizumi huffed. 

"That doesn't mean she couldn't have heard about it from someone else," Hinata Hajime countered, voice muffled. 

"Contest?" Chisa said. "There was a contest?"

"It's nothing," three-quarters of the group said in tandem. 

"It's something," Hinata contradicted. 

"For the love of—shut up, Izuru," Hinata Hajime snapped. 

"For the love of what, Hajime? You have to be specific. My heart can't take much more of this back and forth, you tease," Hinata returned (monotonously). Hinata Hajime recoiled and quickly rubbed his arms as though he had felt a chill. Or maybe he was rubbing away the goosebumps that sprouted on his skin. Judging by his expression, it was definitely the latter.

"Ew, he _has_ gotten grosser," Yamamoto noted, although the tone of her voice betrayed more intrigue than disgust. 

"I thought that he'd behave himself with sensei around," Chisa heard Koizumi mutter to herself. 

Chisa turned to Koizumi. "What was that?"

Koizumi's eyes widened before turning apologetic. "I might have neglected to tell you how Hinata-kun can be when around his brother... I'm really sorry about this. Uh, if it's too much, you're more than welcome to go...elsewhere."

Astounded, Chisa exclaimed, "Too much? What can possibly be too much seeing two brothers displaying their wondrous brotherly affection for one another?"

"Yes," was Hinata Hajime's immediate interjection. " _Brotherly_ affection. I—you got that right, Yukizome-sensei. I wholeheartedly agree with that!"

"Laying it a bit thick," Yamamoto said.

"There's nothing to _lay thick_ about, Yamamoto," Hinata Hajime hissed. "We're brothers—siblings—twins! People need to stop having these twisted misconceptions about us. And quit enjoying this too much!"

"Okay, that's enough," Koizumi intervened. "We're supposed to be having a nice lunch break, not, you know, bringing _this_ up again."

"And what is _this_?" Chisa asked, leaning forward. 

"Nothing," the same three-quarters answered.

"Something—"

"Shut up, Izuru. And sit over _there,_ not on my lap!"

As Chisa observed Hinata voluntarily burst his personal bubble (how uncharacteristic of him!) in favor of getting cozy with his increasingly aggravated brother, deeply fascinated by this _brotherly affectionate_ interaction, her ears perked when she caught the girls talking to each other. 

"I think we need new friends," Koizumi said.

"Speak for yourself. We'll never find anyone more entertaining than the twins."

"I'm serious, Sato-chan. I have a feeling that things are going to escalate from here." A pause. "Because of Hinata-kun."

"Naturally." 

Just how much higher could Hinata go? Chisa mused this as the students wrapped up their respective conversations to finally settle down. Hinata had already made quite an impression on her, being the bizarre student that he was. He out-weirded basically every Ultimate in the academy, and almost every Ultimate was weird in his or her own way. But the way Koizumi had said it made it seem that Hinata had the potential to be even weirder than how he already was. 

Which...could be plausible. There was no way that the effigy incident (and many others) could be his extreme. Chisa didn't know Hinata that well, but she trusted her instincts telling her that the boy had yet to unleash his worst. Whatever it was, she just hoped that no one would get hurt by it (or mentally scarred). She also hoped that Hinata's antics wouldn't interfere with her mission. 

Speaking of which... "So, Hinata-san," Chisa began, smiling brightly at the brother, "tell me about yourself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a BL manga.
> 
> On that note, I always saw Chisa as a deeply empathetic character, so I think she would inadvertently get caught up with her students', ya know, 🌈imagination🌈. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Sonia is integrating well into Japanese culture. In all aspects.


	11. Chisa's Days 2

It had taken Chisa a week before she had taken into calling Hinata's brother as Hinata-san. In fact, in her mind, Hinata-san was Hinata-san because, well, it was what Hinata had claimed his brother to be—a housewife. No, not literally a housewife, but a housewife-like figure. 

When Chisa had found out that Hinata-san did all the cleaning, cooking, and shopping, she couldn't see him as anything else. Especially when the boy had become comfortable with her enough to request housekeeping tips, and then had revealed that he had already used most of them—!

The point was, Chisa had never met a boy dedicated to housekeeping until she had met Hinata-san.

And where did Hinata himself fit into this picture? As Hinata-san had said in his more-than-usual disgruntled voice, Hinata would be lying in bed, either napping or playing video games. Basically, he would do nothing while Hinata-san would run around doing chores and errands.

(Absolutely mind-boggling to learn that her most sedulous student was actually a blanket worm, yet, at the same not, not really.)

Now that they lived in a dorm (together, which Chisa was beyond surprised at this point), these tasks were minimized as opposed to how they had been back at home. However, that didn't detract the fact that Hinata-san would still have his hands full whereas Hinata would only handle his console.

To be honest, the circumstances surrounding the twins were too weird for Chisa to fully wrap her head around. Nonetheless, she decided to let things lie before solidifying her opinion on the matter. 

Notwithstanding the, uh, amorous nuances shared between the Hinatas, albeit terribly one-sided on Hinata's part. Sometimes, Chisa would be overtaken with insurmountable pity for her student whenever Hinata-san would outright deny him any affection. And then she would remember the kind of person Hinata was. 

Chisa often wondered if Hinata was doing this deliberately in front of her. As the Ultimate Hope, surely he had foreseen her reason for being here. She sincerely hoped that he didn't know, but she wasn't going to dismiss the possibility that he did. And if he did, then was he doing all this just to trip her up whenever she was around?

Because Chisa had to confess! This display of brotherly love was something coming straight out of a manga! 

That aside...

Maybe, just maybe, Hinata was taking things up a notch at his brother's expense—rest in peace, Hinata-san's sanity—now that she was involved. According to Koizumi, Yamamoto, and some of Class 77-B, Hinata had always been clingy towards Hinata-san. But whether that clinginess had been to the same extent as it was currently, Chisa wasn't able to figure that one out. 

What she did know was that... Well, it had only been a week. She had to reserve judgment for now. Just for now.

* * *

Juzo working as a security guard was a small comfort despite their meetings being kept short and far in between. But whenever they did get to sit down and chat, Chisa more often rambled about her students than relaying about her findings concerning the school. 

Thankfully, Juzo was such a pal in that he hadn't called her out on it, although she didn't appreciate his rude interjections about her class. 

Yeah, sure, Hanamura was a bit pervy, but he was thoughtful and caring when it mattered. And, yeah, sure, Tsumiki was a bit of a pushover, but she was always ready to help another person.

And, okay, perhaps Chisa should talk to Nidai about him clogging the toilets, but who was she to tell what a health-conscious boy what to do? If the Ultimate Team Manager said that taking a good long dump in the pump was a way to keep healthy, then so be it! 

(But the _clogging_...)

Even with her students' eccentricities, Chisa had grown very fond of each of them that she easily felt defensive of them.

Juzo being Juzo, however, meant that there would always be a barrage of insensitive comments that would pop off of his tongue before his brain could process them. Fortunately for him, Chisa had been friends with the man long enough to understand that he didn't mean anything malicious by them, so things didn't escalate to, say, a brawl. 

Because Chisa would fight for her students...!

Except for Hinata. He wasn't the type of person one would feel the need to defend over. Not that he wasn't worth defending, and certainly not because Chisa cared about him any less, but it was more so knowing who Hinata was that dropped the need to defend him.

Someone could give a slew of disparaging comments behind his back, and the words would bounce off innocuously like balloons bopping against a steel shield. Someone could outright insult Hinata to his face, and the same effect would happen because nothing could ever deter him. 

In whatever situation he could be thrust into, he could take care of himself, whether that be petty badmouthing or...an apocalypse, maybe.

In fact, that kid probably had a contingency plan for an apocalypse and every possible scenario in existence. If not, then he could easily conjure plans right on the spot, and maybe even backup plans in the same duration. Not that the Ultimate Hope would ever need backup plans.

"What do you think?" she asked Juzo.

Juzo shrugged. "I mean, yeah. He's the Ultimate Hope, so why wouldn't he?"

Chisa and Juzo were standing by his post. With the evening settling in, a soft orange hue painted the sky. Class had been let out a few hours ago, yet Chisa still felt weariness bearing down on her shoulders.

It was a good kind of weary, though—the kind that made her feel like she had accomplished jumping over a hurdle and was inching her way towards the finish line. But, boy-oh-boy, as fun as it was being a teacher, being a teacher could be pretty exhausting.

Juzo, on the other hand, only had his sentry duties. Boring as it was since there was little much going on, the work was fitting for a reticent man such as himself. If they were to swap jobs, Juzo would be driven up the wall; he didn't have the patience to be responsible for a class of sixteen kids. Likewise, Chisa would go stir-crazy with having no one to talk to. The drawbacks that came along with their respective positions were honestly minor inconveniences.

Still, while Chisa greatly enjoyed her role in helping students shape their futures, she had her reservations. That could be attributed to her inexperience, or maybe she was actually more overwhelmed than she had realized. But Chisa was certain that the reason was due to how she was treating Hinata.

"Doesn't that sound like an excuse, though?" Chisa murmured. "Just because he's the Ultimate Hope doesn't mean that he's perfection itself. He can't do everything."

"Wow, way to doubt your student. I didn't think this teaching gig would turn you into a downer."

"It's not like that, you meanie!" She slugged his shoulder, which—ow—hurt. Discretely rubbing her knuckles and turning away from the dumb muscle man, Chisa said, "I don't doubt _any_ of my students! I have great faith that they'll do exceptional things, Hinata-kun included."

Juzo quirked a brow. "Then what's the issue?"

Chisa sighed. "Don't you think that it's kind of, I dunno, inhumane?"

She received a blank stare. "You lost me."

"Hinata-kun may be the Ultimate Hope, but he's just a kid! Kids are supposed to not know everything; they're supposed to make dumb mistakes and learn from them and get guidance from their elders. Isn't it unfair that we're putting so much expectation onto him when he might not know everything?"

Despite seeming like he did know everything, Hinata really shouldn't. There was no way that he could! What fifteen-year-old had that much knowledge? Perhaps...technical and practical information was one thing, such as Souda's mastery of machines, but what about the wisdom that one would acquire after undergoing the rough-and-tumbling situations that life would throw them into?

How else would Hinata attain the foresight in handling the _really_ hard stuff in life? Unless he already knew?

But that didn't make sense. Again, Hinata was just a kid, so how else could he know? Unless he learned vicariously? Unless he had somehow already learned about the troubles that adults had to go through and categorized their choices accordingly? Or did he take said problems and uncovered solutions that no one would have thought of because he could find them?

Chisa personally knew that life wasn't so black and white that her decisions and actions couldn't be pigeonholed. Not everything was "right" or "wrong". What she was doing? Looking at the big picture, she was doing the "right" thing, but was she regarding her students? Because no matter how one would look at it, she was more or less using them for her agenda regardless of how much she cared about them. 

Sometimes, she would lie awake at night, stomach roiling with guilt and shame. Sometimes, she would stare at the school buildings, looking forward to a brighter future—one that would be paved justly instead of one beaten into submission by corruption. But always— _always_ —was her inner world conflicted by these feelings that would pull her one way or the other. 

Did Hinata not have these moments? Or was he certain of his choices every time he made them? Was his world as black and white as Chisa had feared?

And that birthed another concern: Did Hinata treat life so flippantly that he didn't care about anything?

"I think you care too much," Juzo pointed out gruffly. "You're the type to get invested with those around you, but you need to rein it in; otherwise, you'll lose sight of your objective."

Chisa sighed. "I... Yeah, I know."

"Besides, how are you certain that what you think is true is really true? Maybe his burden isn't that heavy to bear."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"What I mean is that you got it in your head that he's this poor kid who's forced by society to be the best there is, but ever considered that maybe it's the other way around?" Juzo paused to yawn. "So far, what you've told me about him is that, yeah, he's a weirdo, but he's capable of holding out on his own despite not putting any effort into doing anything."

"Wait, backtrack," Chisa said, brows furrowing. "The other way around?"

"As in...he's not meeting his full potential. Isn't he just lazy?"

Chisa stared at him. She then turned her head to stare at the sun sinking behind the trees and buildings. A plane soared across the sky, its engines loudly reverberating above their heads. A breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, followed by another obnoxious yawn coming out of Juzo's mouth.

And all Chisa could say in response was, "Huh." 

* * *

Her room was dark with nothing but a small lamp to let her see her notes. Chisa, hunched over her desk, scribbled and crossed out a few lines in her journal. She gnawed on the end of her pen before she went back to writing again. 

Okay, this time...no hesitation. It's all or nothing. 


	12. Hajime's Days 9

Hajime found that he didn't like Kuzuryuu Natsumi all that much ever since she had transferred to his class. Not to say that he didn't admire her drive. Frankly, he thought that it was commendable how she genuinely believed that she could rise from rags to riches (in the most metaphorical sense since he knew that the Kuzuryuu family was, like, stinking rich from all that blackmail dough). 

(Blackmail. Black market. Uh, scamming people? Whatever the yakuza did to make their living. How was Hajime supposed to know? He was a law-abiding citizen!)

So, yes, Hajime admired how ambitious Kuzuryuu Natsumi was despite the high unlikelihood that she could ever acquire an Ultimate talent. (It would be like trying to make world peace a reality—that level of impossibility.) He would have appreciated it more so, though, if she didn't go around putting others down and making them feel like garbage. 

Just because the Reserves didn't have the same gumption as she did didn't mean that they were trash. At least they bothered to put any effort into their education, unlike Kuzuryuu Natsumi who only put an effort into being a bully. 

(She probably could afford it knowing that she came from money.)

The bully descriptor became more pronounced when a grim-faced Yamamoto had told him about her middle school days, to which Hajime's impression of the loudmouth yankee-doodle girl plummeted even further.

Wow, she harassed the same couple of girls from middle school to high school, and because of what? Because she was jealous of Koizumi's innate talent? How pathetic. And how weird that the aforementioned bully happened to be in the same exact class that one of her past targets happened to be in. 

So, now, Hajime developed a distaste for Kuzuryuu, but he was well-aware that his perception was already skewed. He was friends with Yamamoto, which more or less made him obligated to believe every word that she said. Hajime could feel the sins of predisposition crawling down his back. 

Watanabe didn't think his compromised impartiality was an issue. That was a given since he, like the rest of the class, disliked Kuzuryuu since he, like the rest of the class, strongly preferred to not be treated like garbage. Hajime understood—really, he did—but he was nevertheless concerned. 

"Well, if it helps, just remember that one time when she called you the ringleader of a bunch of no-life nerds," Watanabe told him. 

"I don't want to remember that," Hajime muttered, although it did help solidify his opinion of Kuzuryuu. Talk about an uncalled-for insinuation. Honestly, just because he tutored his classmates instead of taking breaks during break-times didn't make him a no-life anything. Besides, shouldn't that show just how committed and helpful he was?

Sheesh, it wouldn't surprise him if Kuzuryuu somehow twisted that into him being a pushover and naively giving his competition a leg up.

Yes, Hajime was still bitter about that comment that she had made towards him. 

His bitterness, however, was incomparable to that of Yamamoto's, who would regularly engage in verbal catfights with Kuzuryuu.

It would be because of these confrontations that made Hajime question his bias. 

If Kuzuryuu was the instigator whereas Yamamoto the defender one hundred percent of the time, then of course Hajime would side with his friend. But, alas, Yamamoto wasn't the underdog who would climb her way towards righteousness, the David to Kuzuryuu's Goliath; she was just as culpable as Kuzuryuu in terms of creating a pointless fight.

Sometimes, Hajime would sit back and watch in bewilderment as Yamamoto would go toe-to-toe with Kuzuryuu for absolutely no reason at all. Half of the time, Yamamoto would make an ass of herself and say things that ought to be kept to herself. That remark of how the non-talented could never hope to amount to anything? Yikes. Obviously, she had said that just to knock Kuzuryuu down, but she didn't have to knock down the rest of the class with her. 

Speaking of which, there was Yamamoto again, swaggering towards Kuzuryuu who was minding her own business, staring sulkily out at the window.

"Someone's gotta intervene," Hajime huffed to himself.

Watanabe gave him a pointed look.

"What?"

"And that someone is going to be you, right?" Watanabe said slowly.

Hajime blinked. "Me?"

"I know that this sounds crazy, but isn't it a friend's duty to stop another friend from doing something dumb?"

Hajime shoved him.

And then dragged him into the fray despite Watanabe's panicked protests because, whaddya know, he was also Yamamoto's friend!

After five minutes of inserting themselves into a death match between two very high-strung girls, Hajime and Watanabe naturally didn't come out unscathed. Their eardrums would not stop ringing.

"I would disown our friendship if it didn't mean that my grades banked on it," Watanabe groused, rubbing his ears. 

"Good to know that someone has common sense here," Hajime replied wryly. 

Yamamoto, for her part, was glaring at them with betrayal glowing brightly in her eyes. "What the hell?" she hissed when they were out in the hallway. "Why'd you guys butt in like that?"

"Look, I know that you're holding a grudge against Kuzuryuu—" And Hajime had to take a moment to dwell on that.

Calling it a grudge would be putting it lightly; clearly, she was neck-deep in festering resentment, hence why she always went after Kuzuryuu. Even when Kuzuryuu would be doing something benign like sitting quietly in a corner, Yamamoto could find every offense that the girl would be doing and call her out on her shortcomings. 

And because of these several instances of Yamamoto's irrationality, Hajime couldn't help but shift gears. "You're being no better than Kuzuryuu," he told her plainly.

Watanabe reared his head back as though he was reacting preemptively to an explosion. Yamamoto stared at him blankly until her expression darkened with ire. 

"What," she said.

Had Hajime been a person unaccustomed to the stranger things in life, then he too would respond similarly to how Watanabe was responding—intimidated. Yamamoto could truly be intimidating when given the right push, but Hajime was not at all phased (much). After all, Yamamoto was just a fifteen-ongoing-sixteen-year-old girl, so it wasn't like she could do anything to him—

Yamamoto suddenly seized him by his tie and yanked him down to her height. "What the hell did you say?" she hissed into his face, giving the impression of white flames flickering dangerously close to scorching him. 

Okay, maybe Hajime was a bit intimidated, but he felt more peeved by the girl's manhandling. "I said," he grunted, prying her claws off of him, "that you're being no better than Kuzuryuu." When he finally got himself free, he widely gestured at her. "Do you have any idea how you've been behaving recently?"

"You mean standing up to a good-for-nothing criminal?" she snarled. 

Could Kuzuryuu be classified as one if she was just born to a family of criminals? Hajime shelved that inquiry for another day. "No, a bully," he deadpanned. "Let's be real here—Kuzuryuu hasn't started anything for the last few days, and yet you've been going at her relentlessly."

"Have you forgotten how she's been like ever since she got here?" Yamamoto shot back, her voice growing louder. "She's been nothing been a total bitch! Isn't that right, Watawata?"

"Whoa, don't drag me into this," Watanabe quickly said, backing away with his hands raised in front of him. 

"She's been unpleasant," Hajime conceded, "but not so much nowadays. You, on the other hand, have been outright harassing her—"

"I have not!" Yamamoto shouted. "And if I have, well, then—then she's deserving of it! I already told you what she's done to me and Mahiru-chan back in middle school, haven't I? So why're you getting on my case about this?" Her expression tightened with poorly concealed hurt. "And why're you siding with _her_? Last time I checked, you were _my_ friend, not hers."

Hajime wanted to throw his arms in the air and walk away, too fed up with this heated emotional bullcrap. While he knew that Yamamoto wasn't purposefully attempting to guilt-trip him, too caught up in her own pain to try manipulating anyone, he found that his patience was already running thin. And wasn't that something? He thought that years of babysitting Izuru would have granted him the strength to put up with anyone's nonsense. Apparently not.

However, as Yamamoto had said—as Watanabe had said—Hajime was indeed her friend. He might not have had much experience in the friendship department, but if afternoon cartoon programs and fiction novels had taught him anything, it was that friends would set each other straight even if he had to fight against a horde of zombie ninjas and lose an arm in the process. 

Fortunately, because this was real life, Hajime didn't need to do either. Instead, all he did was take a deep breath, exhale, and say, "It's because I'm your friend that I'm telling you these things. You may think that you're doing something right, that you think you're teaching Kuzuryuu a lesson, but you're not. What you're doing now? You're being the bad guy here."

No amount of truth could detract the harshness that lined Yamamoto's face. She remained undeterred, unconvinced. (Hajime should have known his words would go unheeded; he wasn't a master of the talk-no-jutsu nor was he the protagonist.) "If I'm not keeping her in line, then she'd go for Mahiru-chan!"

"How can she? Reserves aren't allowed on the Main Course campus, and Koizumi doesn't even meet us here," Hajime countered, exasperated.

"That's because Mahiru-chan's been meeting us outside. But if she hadn't, then she would be the one who's being harassed." 

"Okay, but she doesn't and she isn't. Yamamoto, you're worrying about things that aren't happening!"

"You're just the one who isn't seeing the bigger picture here, Hinata-san!"

"What the hell does that have to do with you picking a fight with Kuzuryuu on a daily basis?" Hajime yelled back.

"Uh, guys?" Watanabe said weakly.

"Oh my gosh, do I have to repeat myself?" Yamamoto groaned, digging her fingers into her hair. "I told you—I have to keep her in line! If she thinks that any of us are going to bow down to her whims, then she'll push us around!"

"You're severely underestimating us if you think that we'll collectively comply with whatever she wants us to do," Hajime huffed. "And, besides, if she does anything drastic, then we can always report to the administration! Doesn't Hope's Peak have a low tolerance for that sort of behavior?"

"G-guys..."

"You're forgetting that she's a Kuzuryuu, dumbass! Her family can just buy her way out of anything. Why'd you think that she got away with what she did back then?" Yamamoto snapped.

"Kuzuryuu or not, it's not like she can buy her way into the Main Course campus, which—need I remind you?—she can't get in to begin with!"

"Guys...!"

"That means jackshit! Mahiru-chan is still unsafe!"

"How? Tell me, how exactly can Kuzuryuu possibly get inside if she's a Reserve? Huh? How?"

"Guys!" Watanabe bellowed. The volume of his cry startled Hajime and Yamamoto into jolting, then causing them to whirl around to face him in surprise. 

Watanabe's droopy eyes seemed to be droopier as he wearily sighed. "Look around," he said.

Hajime and Yamamoto did so, and, to their ever-lasting embarrassment, they just noticed that they had attracted quite an audience. 

"Maybe we should cut our trip to the vending machine short," Hajime suggested in a mumble.

"Agreed," Yamamoto said with a curt nod. 

Watanabe made a grievous sound. 

* * *

The tension between him and Yamamoto was obvious, and it only had taken Koizumi a second to point that out when they met up for lunch.

"It's nothing," Yamamoto said, shining the other girl a brilliant smile before giving Hajime a meaningful glance. "Isn't that right, Hinata-san?"

Hajime scrunched his nose. "Right," he said flatly.

Koizumi looked between them worriedly. "It isn't because of—because of Kuzuryuu-san, is it?"

Before any one of them could open their mouth to respond, or to even think of a way how to respond, Izuru beat them to it with a simple, "It is."

For the first time ever, Yamamoto swore at him. "Damn it, Hinata-kun!"

"Hey!" Hajime said in protective brotherly indignation. "He's...!" And then he trailed off when he registered what Izuru had done. "No, never mind. Yeah, damn it, Izuru."

Koizumi's brows knitted together in consternation. "Okay," she breathed out, "what did she do this time?"

"Nothing. Yamamoto was the one picking on her for no reason in particular, and Hajime and she got into an argument about it," Izuru supplied without missing a beat. 

Both girls boggled at him until Yamamoto cried out, "How the hell do you know these things?"

Izuru did jazz hands. "Magic."

Yamamoto turned to Hajime. "May I smack your brother?"

"As if you can succeed," Hajime sneered.

"Now, hold up! What's this about Sato-chan picking on Kuzuryuu-san?" Koizumi exclaimed. She looked at Yamamoto with astonishment. "You've been doing _what_?"

Yamamoto winced. "Mahiru-chan, I can explain!"

"So can I," Izuru chimed in.

"Hinata-kun, shut up!"

"No, actually—" Koizumi frowned sternly "—I want him to explain. Well, Hinata-kun? What happened?"

As though Koizumi was a teacher who had summoned him to read aloud in class, Izuru delivered obediently, offering a clear and succinct picture of went had gone down between Yamamoto and Kuzuryuu today, not to mention the meat of Yamamoto and Hajime's hallway escalation. (Hajime made a mental note to check if the halls had cameras that he hadn't noticed before.)

Yamamoto tried to interrupt, but she was silenced by Koizumi's stern glare. A minute into Izuru's creepily accurate account, Yamamoto's face was the very image of mortification and guilt. 

As expected of the hot-tempered Koizumi, she did not take the issue lightly. 

"I can't believe you!" 

"Mahiru-chan, it's not like that—"

"Why couldn't you just leave things be? I'm so disappointed in you!"

"But I did it for you!"

"How is bullying another person supposed to help me? That's just an excuse to be cruel!"

As Koizumi lectured her pleading friend, Hajime and Izuru sat back and watched the spectacle. In Hajime's case, he was more than a little drained from his previous bout with Yamamoto to bother participating—not that he could, anyway. As for Izuru, he observed impassively—as he always did.

"So," Hajime began, pushing around clumps of rice with his chopsticks, "where's Yukizome-sensei? Is she busy or something?"

"After having an epiphany about my psychological invulnerability, she's been trying to come up with plans on how to better approach us so that she can acquire the information necessary for her organization's goal to end corruption," Izuru explained. 

He fixed him a look. "How _do_ you know these things?" 

Izuru did jazz hands. "Magi—"

Hajime smacked him.


	13. Hajime's Days 10

"Oh no," Hajime said with feeling. "What do you want?"

"Now, now," replied the bane of his existence, offering an amicable smile, "is that any way to speak to an Ultimate?"

Hajime and Yamamoto exchanged glances. "Give me the word and I'll dropkick this asshole," she whispered.

Hajime looked at her fondly before telling her, "No, you moron. Don't you have any common sense?"

Despite their argument the other day, Hajime and Yamamoto had been quick to make amends. It was strange how natural their reconciliation had been, not to mention the lack of awkwardness that existed between them, but Hajime wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. (Sometimes.)

(Although, if he did have to analyze the reason why—not that he did, but if he did—then he supposed that it could be because of their personalities and their understanding of each other's personalities. Such as Hajime knowing about Yamamoto's weird obsession with Koizumi yet not intervening, or how Yamamoto understood Hajime's desperation for normalcy. None of that had to do with personalities, Hajime realized.)

Additionally, it was sort of nice that they had argued. Of course, Hajime didn't want to get into another heated row with her again because, boy oh boy, had that been an emotionally taxing day. No, he didn't want to regularly fight with his friend, but he was glad that they at least had one. Now, they were past this courteous phase of their friendship where they felt obliged to be mindful of their words and the other person's feelings. 

For example, inserting "Ha, I'm just joking!" every time they had teased one another. That had been getting old.

Now, Hajime could try to trip Yamamoto every other day instead of once in a while, and Yamamoto could ram her pencil into his armpit without any reservation. The beauty of friendship.

And just as seamless as the insult that had exited Hajime's mouth, so did the retaliation that Yamamoto brought up. She punched his arm. Hajime winced in pain.

"Ahem," Komaeda (because who else could be the bane of Hajime's existence?) coughed not-so discretely. They faced him again, meeting his ever-present smile. "If you're done abusing each other, there is something that I wish to discuss."

Hajime sighed. "What is it, Komaeda?"

Komaeda tutted as though he was a disappointed matron chiding a rowdy child. "No need to appear so dismayed, Hinata-san! I bring you good news."

"Your idea of good news might differ what we think of as good news."

"It has come to my attention," the Ultimate continued without a hitch, blazing ahead with that same nonchalance that Hajime was developing an intense dislike for, "that you're having problems with a classmate."

A beat of silence followed. "And how," Yamamoto began slowly, narrowing her eyes as she cast Komaeda under her scrutiny, "the hell do you know that?"

"I overheard your dispute yesterday during lunch—"

"This bastard was eavesdropping us!"

"How rude!" he exclaimed. "There was hardly any reason for me to do such a thing! I was simply passing by when your argument was broadcasted across the area. You ought to mind the volume of your voices, you two; they do carry."

Hajime was offended. He hadn't said much compared to Koizumi, who had said plenty enough. In fact, she had been the one who had done more of the shouting. Was this Komaeda's underhanded way of indirectly insulting her as he insulted them? Unless Komaeda couldn't possibly be that sly and could only bear consecrated thoughts about his precious Ultimates.

"I guess we gotta be fair here. We were being loud," Hajime conceded. Yamamoto scowled at that, but she didn't protest. "But what does this have to do with your 'good news'?"

"I'll get there," Komaeda replied, waving a dismissive hand. "Let me preface this by saying how disgusted I am that a Reserve Course student thinks that she could possibly believe that she can be an Ultimate. It's so inconceivably arrogant!"

Did he really have to tell them this? They already knew what he thought about them—about people without talents, generally. And Hajime was sure that Komaeda knew that they knew. But because Komaeda was an asshole, he probably couldn't help but rub it in their face just how unexceptional they were in anything. 

Hajime half-expected Yamamoto to fly off the handle, but, instead, she just crossed her arms and nodded. 

"Totally," she said. "I agree."

Komaeda became quiet for a moment. "You do...?"

"Yeah. Some Ultimates work hard to have the talents that they already have, although, personally, I think those people already have a natural knack for what they do; they just need to practice to polish their skills like Mahiru-chan. But everyone else? They can be average at best, but no more no matter how much effort and dedication they put into." She shrugged. "Kuzuryuu is an idiot for not understanding that yet."

The Main Course student's face looked as though it couldn't decide whether to smile in elation or frown in confusion. In the end, he settled for a grimace. "Then...what are you doing here?"

"I'm here for Mahiru-chan, of course. I want to give her all the support she needs and let her know that I'm always cheering her on."

Hajime reminisced the days when he had believed Yamamoto to be a cheerful and laidback girl. Ah, the good old times. Those times when he hadn't realized Yamamoto's strange fixation on her friend nor the possibility that she was slightly unhinged. Was the fixation an indication of her being unhinged, anyway? Perhaps she was clinically insane, yet masked the true heights of her insanity by wearing a facade of a cheerful and laidback girl.

Hajime wondered if he should be concerned.

He probably should be with how ecstatic Komaeda got. "I see! Although I have no respect for you for tainting Hope's Peak with your unremarkable presence, I do have respect for the hope that you harbor for Koizumi-san's growth, regardless of how unnecessary that may be."

Yamamoto sneered. "I don't care just how 'unnecessary' you think I am. I only care about Mahiru-chan, got it?"

Hajime cleared his throat.

"And my other friends," she added.

Good enough.

"And I care about Koizumi-san as well! And all my wonderful classmates and every Ultimate in this school!" Komaeda enthused. "Which is why I have come to you two to discuss something."

"Right, about this 'good news' that you've been dangling above our heads." Hajime rolled his eyes. "Hurry up. The hours of the day aren't getting any longer."

"Patience certainly isn't a virtue of yours, is it, Hinata-san?" Komaeda sighed, shooting him a dismissive look. "Very well, then. I have a plan."

"And the plan is for what exactly?"

"Have you not been listening to what I've been saying? Or are you always this slow on the uptake?"

Hajime raised his gaze to the sky as though it could grant him strength. The prevarication was one thing; the jabs at his intelligence was another. Hajime was a smart young man, thank you very much. Or, at least, diligent with his studies, but, hey, his grades were a testament to his hard-working brain. 

"You have a plan to stop Kuzuryuu from trying to become an Ultimate. What I'm asking is what the plan entails," Hajime said flatly. 

"Hm. So you aren't as stupid as I have feared," the other boy sniffed. 

Hajime grounded his teeth. 

"Well?" Yamamoto prompted, drumming her fingers on her arm. 

"We all know that Kuzuryuu-san has designs on being registered as an Ultimate. As to what kind of Ultimate, I do not know. Regardless, what I do know is that she intends on tormenting an Ultimate to the point of voluntary departure so that there will be an open spot. My plan is to—"

"Wait, what?" Yamamoto cried out.

"How do you know that?" Hajime sputtered. "Did you talk to her?"

"Unfortunately, I have." Komaeda didn't add anything after that. 

Hajime and Yamamoto stared at him. 

"So...is that why you got a black eye?" Hajime asked, gesturing at the shiner peeking through the fringes of his unruly hair. Hajime wasn't going to mention it until Komaeda had brought up Kuzuryuu. In fact, he was going to blithely ignore the black eye until Komaeda had brought up Kuzuryuu.

Komeada looked away. "I'll mind my own business if you mind yours, Hinata-san."

 _Mind his business?_ Said the guy who kept butting into _his_ business! In fact, that was what Komaeda was doing right now!

As Hajime flipped over a metaphorical table out of sheer frustration, Yamamoto asked Komaeda, "When did you get to talk her? I thought that you saw yourself too good to mingle with us Reserves."

"Heh. I wouldn't consider myself better, per se; just smarter because I know and acknowledge my place in the world." So, in other words, he did see himself as better. "But as much as I loathe being around you lot, I know that there is a time and a place for everything. That is why I set aside my disgust and approached Kuzuryuu-san last night." 

"Last night? What, you mean after curfew? What were you two doing out so late?"

"I can't say what Kuzuryuu-san was doing; she didn't give me an answer to that." Komaeda shrugged. "As for me, though, I was just out for a nightly stroll."

"Uh, I'm a commuter, so correct me if I'm wrong here, but isn't there a rule about that? What time _were_ you out, anyway?"

"Between ten and ten-thirty. And, yes, you're right, I shouldn't be out so late. In fact, I should have been caught the fifteen times that I've been out. You can say that it's my luck at work."

"Uh huh. Right." Where Yamamoto sounded dubious, Hajime had to process why hearing that from Komaeda had given him a pause. He remembered on the night when Komaeda had visited to eat dinner with them, Izuru had kept dropping hints about his luck. But since that had taken place months ago, Hajime couldn't remember what was so significant about it.

"You're saying that you've been wandering late at night and not once did the night patrol catch you?" Hajime asked.

"That's what I'm saying," Komaeda confirmed. 

"You're either venturing out in camouflage or that you're really lucky," Yamamoto remarked. 

Komaeda laughed. "That is why I'm the Ultimate Lucky Student."

When they had first met, Komaeda had freaking introduced himself as the guy who got in because of a lottery.

"Whatever. You overheard our conversation at lunch yesterday, you were out late to go for a walk without getting caught, and you stumbled upon Kuzuryuu." She crossed her arms glared at him. "You do realize this sounds too good to be all happenstance?"

Komaeda laughed again. "It's all thanks to my luck!"

"There is no such thing as luck! Coincidences can happen, sure, but everything lines up just too perfectly to be coincidental!"

"Ah, but aren't perfect coincidences considered to be a result of luck? Who's to say that the 'too good to be true' cannot be because of luck's involvement?"

"Are we seriously going to have a philosophical debate on luck right now?" Hajime interjected irritably. "What is the plan already—?"  
  
"Yo, Hinata, Yamamoto! What're you guys doing?" someone suddenly called out to them. "You're gonna be late for class."

Hajime and Yamamoto whirled around to see another student some yards away from them, his hands cupped around his mouth as he told them to hurry. Hajime belatedly recognized him to be a classmate. 

Wait, late? How long have they been here? 

"Ack! He's right—we got five minutes to get there!" Yamamoto cried out in alarm, shoving her phone into his face. And that they did—only five minutes to get inside the Reserve Course building.

" _Crap_!" Without preamble, Hajime bolted out of there, leaving Komaeda in the dust while Yamamoto sped alongside him. 

Komaeda shouted after them, but Hajime couldn't hear him through the mantra of "late, late, late" going on in his head. He yelled over his shoulder, "We'll talk about this another time!" before picking up the pace and leaving Komaeda alone for good. 

At least, until they would meet again. But when and where, who knew? Maybe Komaeda could stumble by their usual eating grounds, but Hajime had a feeling that Komaeda wouldn't do that when Izuru didn't want him around. 

They slammed the door open and skidded inside. Hajime folded in half, his hands on his knees as he desperately gulped for air. He could hear Yamamoto panting just as harshly as he was. He checked his watch and released a sigh of relief when they had only two minutes to spare. 

"Uh, did you guys run all the way over here?" the guy from earlier asked, casually walking in. "You do realize that it's only a four-minute walk to get here."

Hajime did realize that now. He wanted to bash his head against the wall.

"Argh!" Yamamoto screeched. Both boys jumped at the sound. "Talking to that Ultimate fetishist just—just—!" She wildly clawed the air like a cat dunked in water. 

"Killed whatever brain cells we had left?" Hajime punctuated with sympathy.

"Killed whatever brain cells we had left," Yamamoto repeated darkly. 

"What makes you think that you had any to begin with?" Kuzuryuu cackled from her seat. 

"You're lucky I'm too tired to deal with you," Yamamoto growled, not bothering to spare the other girl a glance as she stomped towards her desk. 

"Uh, Ultimate fetishist?" the classmate murmured, bewildered.

"You don't want to know," Hajime said wearily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ultimate fetishist" was an insult inspired by Fallen_Skys's comment.


	14. Hajime's Days 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Komaeda stresses me out, mainly because he's so complicated.

Normally on breaks, Hajime would perform his usual exemplary classmate duty by holding tutoring sessions for his classmates. However, his free services had been cut short when Yamamoto had snagged him by his collar and had proceeded to haul him out.

Everyone protested at this, to which she shouted over her shoulder, "The teacher needs him for something!"

"The teacher does not need me for anything," Hajime huffed once they were far from their homeroom. He fixed her an unimpressed stare as Yamamoto surreptitiously peeked around the corner. 

"No, but I do," she said, finally turning around to face him. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she asked him, "What do you reckon Komaeda's plan is?"

"Did you seriously drag me out here to ask me that?" he deadpanned. 

She frowned, defensive. "What?"

No, what was he thinking? Of course she did. Hajime dragged his hands down his face as Yamamoto repeated an affronted " _What_?"

He ought to be used to this by now, but he was more accustomed to Izuru's bouts of insanity than anyone else's. Maybe this was the universe's way of telling him that every seemingly normal aspect of his life truly wasn't. That or he should buckle down for more craziness to come. "You're really determined about this, aren't you?" he remarked wryly.

Her frown deepened. "Should I be anything else?" she huffed. "If my suspicions are correct—and I know that they are!—then Komaeda was honest about Kuzuryuu intending on doing something bad, which is why he wants us in on his plan."

"I don't know..."

"You don't believe me?"

"It's not you who I don't believe, but it's Komaeda who I'm skeptical about." Hajime crossed his arms, mirroring her expression. "I mean, he suckered his classmates into organizing a cooking contest because he wanted 'inspire hope'." The derision rolled off his tongue easily. "He was using me as a pawn for his sick game, and now he's trying to do the same with you!"

"You don't know that," Yamamoto argued. "Yeah, he's an asshole, but I don't think that he's lying about this."

"Who says that he's lying? He just twists the truth to make it suit him." Admittedly, Hajime's encounters with Komaeda weren't enough for him to reach that conclusion definitively. However, the description felt like a puzzle piece slotted perfectly into the overall picture that made up Komaeda. What was it that Izuru had called him long ago? Manipulative? 

Despite his warning, Yamamoto remained resolute. "Either way, he worships the Main Course, and anyone who gets in their way is someone who he wants to get rid of, which is what I'm going to do to Kuzuryuu."

Hajime's eyes grew wide. "Yamamoto—"

"I don't mean it like that," she backtracked quickly. "Don't take me for her, alright? I know that I can be a bit...intense when it comes to Mahiru-chan—"

Understatement of the century.

"—but I'm not a psycho who'd go out and murder someone just to protect her!"

Maybe or maybe not, Hajime thought, but he didn't want to dwell on the chances of that happening. "No, but you are someone who'd do something stupid to do so," he pointed out.

Yamamoto had the gall to roll her eyes. "Yeah? Name one thing."

"The fact that you're actually considering working with Komaeda."

"Oh, come on—"

"Hey, you can't deny that it's true. Since when has Komaeda ever done anything for us, huh? All he has done is ridicule us and inconvenience us. Heck, he's made my life all the more complicated by casting me as the underdog for that contest. And people haven't stopped talking to me about being the Ultimate Curry Cook!"

"That wouldn't have happened if your brother hadn't intervened," she countered.

"Of course Izuru would have intervened. He's _Izuru_."

Four months of exposure to Izuru's Izuruness was enough for Yamamoto to shut her mouth, pause, and then relent begrudgingly. "That's fair."

Indeed.

"But this time is different!" Yamamoto insisted, bouncing back to the subject. "Like I said, Komaeda is willing to do whatever it takes to protect his precious Ultimates. And since he knows that we're friends with the Ultimate Photographer, he came to us for help."

"Only to use us like disposable tools," Hajime muttered darkly. "Don't forget what his stance on Reserves are, regardless of how much your viewpoints may align. Once we lived out our usefulness, he'll be quick to ditch us." Or throw them to the side as scapegoats while he would make his timely escape. How the situation would go, Hajime envisioned a harrowing future for the two of them.

"I'm not an idiot. I know that he's not a guy to be trusted, but I do believe that we can trust that he knows something about Kuzuryuu that we don't."

"Aside from Kuzuryuu bullying her way into becoming an Ultimate?"

Yamamoto met his gaze with fire in her eyes. "A way to stop her."

"Hey, I know a way too. I call it 'Let's contact the authorities because this is stupid'."

"Did you forget what I told you about—"

"You said that Kuzuryuu can buy her way out of anything, but I _sincerely_ —" high emphasis on the word "—doubt that Hope's Peak Academy, an institution that prizes talent above all else, would be okay with a no-talent student harassing their talented student no matter how deep her wallet is."

"Well, considering how that no-talent student is the sister of another talented student, the school will lose not only their cash cow but also an Ultimate," Yamamoto replied sardonically. "Two birds, one stone, and the victor certainly won't be Hope's Peak."

Ugh. She made a good point. "But," Hajime hedged, "if the school permits this and fails to uphold justice, then things will look bad for them. This show of nepotism over what is right will make the public question their integrity—"

"I don't want to squabble over hypotheticals with you," Yamamoto cut in impatiently. "The school will do the right thing or not—I don't care. What I do care is the possibility that they _won't_ _._ " She scowled. "Take it from me, Hinata-san. I know that there is no institution out there that is safe from corruption."

Hajime blinked at that. Not because he had experience with corrupt institutions himself, although there had been a handful of shady places trying to recruit Izuru in the past, but because of how she had sounded. Yamamoto...had made it sound as though she had learned that lesson personally. 

She really didn't trust Hope's Peak, did she?

Hajime raked his fingers through his hair. He believed that going along with whatever Komaeda had planned was a bad idea, that it would bring about more trouble than what it was worth, but he could see that Yamamoto had made up her mind. There was no point in trying to move something that was immovable. 

Nevertheless, he didn't want her to go into this alone. What if she inadvertently fell off the deep end, whether by Komaeda's ministrations or by her own folly? Hajime couldn't bear the thought of that happening. 

While they hadn't been friends for very long, he truly did care about her. She and Koizumi had stuck with him and Izuru for four months, which was four months longer than anyone else had managed, and he could tell that they weren't going to abandon them anytime soon.

Yamamoto, though? Yamamoto, for all her abrasiveness and peculiarities, had become Hajime's first and real best friend.

Every day, they had spent time together in class, in school, outside for lunch, and every day they had come to learn and understand one another. And even when they had gotten into a heated spat, they had still overcome their differences and traded jokes and laughs. Because that was what friends did, right?

At the end of the day, it was inevitable as to what Hajime would be doing. Which was why, with great reluctance, he said, "Fine."

Confusion colored Yamamoto's expression briefly until she registered what he had said. Then she gave him a brilliant smile before wrapping him in a rib-breaking hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she squealed. 

"Can't breathe," Hajime grunted.

He didn't understand why she was readily willing to accept Komaeda's word, but he supposed that it had something to do with her...issues. Whatever they were. 

"You know that I still think that Komaeda's up to no good, right?" Hajime sighed after Yamamoto had released him. 

"I know, but as long as we're careful, he can't pull a fast one over us," Yamamoto said. 

"Hate to be such a downer, but I think he's too crafty for us to even try."

"You're always a downer." 

Well, no arguing against that one. 

"If you're that worried about Komaeda, then we're just going to need insurance," she said. She leaned on the wall and tapped her chin, although the musing gesture did nothing to hide the mischievous glint in her eyes.

Hajime's brows furrowed. "Okay...?"

"An insurance that's so reliable that I can't believe we haven't considered it before."

"Oh no... You don't mean—"

"We'll bring Hinata-kun along," Yamamoto chirped. 

Hajime shook his head, mildly exasperated. "Bold of you to assume that Izuru would give a shit."

To his surprise, Yamamoto smirked, not at all demoralized by his words. "He would if his brother is involved."

Ah. And to think that Komaeda was the crafty one. 

* * *

Hajme and Yamamoto didn't even have to say anything for Izuru to say, "I'm in."

They stared at him, mystified. "In...what?" Yamamoto asked. 

"Your collaboration with Komaeda in stopping Kuzuryuu Natsumi from becoming an Ultimate. I'm in." And then Izuru added, "Your welcome for sparing you from having to do the spiel about protecting Hajime from getting expelled."

"Seriously, how do you know these things?" Yamamoto demanded to know. 

Izuru closed his eyes and lightly placed his fingertips on his temple. "Twin telepathy," he droned. 

"Try hitting him," Hajime suggested.

Yamamoto swung her arm, but Izuru leaped away like a graceful antelope. "Twiiin telepathyyy."

"I'm starting to see why you're always annoyed with him."

Coincidentally—or "coincidentally"—Koizumi had prior engagements.

As the vice-president of her class, she had the responsibility of confronting Mitarai Ryota—or his imposter, at least—as to why he had fallen back to his shut-in tendencies, and then hopefully drag him out of his room. The duty had to be done during lunch, the prime time when Mitarai would actually venture more than a foot outside of his dorm. 

As to why the actual president sitting before them couldn't do the job? Izuru explained that Koizumi's brand of tough love would have a more effective impact on Mitarai—whoever and whichever—to spur him to go outside. 

Notwithstanding the fact that Izuru could very well act on that aforementioned tough love, but Izuru countered that Mitarai and the imposter already had a fixed impression on him and wouldn't be persuaded by what he had to say.

Notwithstanding the fact that Izuru could impersonate Koizumi and—ah, well, whatever. The guy had an answer for everything.

Yamamoto was visibly bummed by Koizumi's absence, but not as much as she was suspicious by these perfect coincidences happening. 

"Of course it's not a coincidence. Izuru must have organized all this to happen so that we can talk without Koizumi listening," Hajime said. 

And then, in another show of coincidental magic, _Komaeda_ entered the scene, intruding their space like the interloper that he was. "Hello, everyone! It's so good to see you all again," he sang, prancing towards them like they were buddies who hadn't seen each other in years. 

"I didn't think that you'd be willing to invite him," Hajime said to Izuru, a little flabbergasted. 

"I didn't," Izuru replied, expression pinched. 

Komaeda plopped down onto the spot typically reserved for Koizumi, which _coincidentally_ —oh, hahaha—happened to be right next to Izuru. "It's especially good to see you again, Hinata-kun, even though it's been merely ten minutes since I last saw you. I hope that you don't mind me being here—"

"I do," Izuru interjected blandly.

"Of course you do!" Komaeda laughed. "Why wouldn't you? I know that it's because I'm a garbage human being! A mere pebble compared to the grand monuments that are the Ultimates!"

In a way that only Izuru could muster, he gave Hajime a "can you believe what I have to deal with?" look, to which Hajime replied with an "I deal with you on a regular basis, so yes" glare. Izuru shrugged in a "you do what you gotta do" manner.

Komaeda's unexpected yet oh-so-convenient appearance ought to be enough to send Hajime reeling. However, after this morning and his discussion with Yamamoto, not to mention Izuru, his shock meter had been capped. He needed, like, a day or two to gain his bearings before he could return to reacting explosively at whatever abnormal would happen. 

For one reason or another, reasons beyond anyone's comprehension, they allowed Komaeda to continue waxing poetry about the Ultimates while drawing metaphors about his existence as insignificant and gross objects. The only time anyone of them had spoken up was when Yamamoto had thrown in a pooper scooper, and Komaeda had disagreed by explaining how useful pooper scoopers were. 

Hajime had a vague thought about letting Komaeda get it out of his system just like how a baby needed to pass gas. Just holding it all in wasn't good for anyone's health, and Hajime knew just how healthy Komaeda was. (Not very.)

When Komaeda had finished, the conversation resumed as though he hadn't breathed a word in the first place. 

"So, yeah, nothing was coincidental," Hajime said.

"Coincidences can be a result of—" Izuru slapped a hand over Komaeda's mouth, silencing him. 

"Yeah, alright, fine," Yamamoto said. "And I know that this isn't important to the more pressing matters that we gotta cover, but how the hell did he know what I wanted to say to him? And don't say that it's because of twin telepathy," she added, narrowing her eyes at Izuru.

"My love for my brother brings me to greater heights of foreknowledge," Izuru supplied.

"No!"

"I don't know—it can be a variety of reasons. He read your expression and body language, he predicted what you were going to say, he had a very good hunch," Hajime listed, waving a dismissive hand. "Maybe he really does have twin telepathy but one-sided so that only he's in the know. I always suspected that my biological brother was abducted by aliens since birth and was replaced by this alien cryptid version of him."  
  
"You say the sweetest things," Izuru told him. 

"You know what? Forget it," Yamamoto grumbled, quick to move on from the topic that she had broached. She rubbed her eyes. "Let's just get on with this."

Was it becoming worrisome that Yamamoto was finding Izuru less and less entertaining and more aggravating to deal with? Or was it reassuring that Hajime wasn't the only one who had to suffer alone? There was Koizumi, of course, but Koizumi wasn't here right now to be their only functioning brain cell.

"Right, so, Komaeda," Hajime began, albeit warily, "what's this plan of yours? And put your hand down, Izuru."

As Izuru did so (before furiously rubbing his palm on the thigh of his pants), Komaeda beamed and said, "I'm glad that you ask, Hinata-san. To recap, Kuzuryuu-san intends on being registered into the Main Course by forcing another Ultimate leave. Despite her plan being full of holes, it seems that she won't back down on this one."

Hajime glanced at his black eye. A high likelihood that he had tried explaining that one to Kuzuryuu before getting clocked in the face. 

"My plan to counter hers," Komaeda continued, "is to have her leave instead."

So, about that shock meter being capped? "You want to have her expelled?" Hajime sputtered. 

"Expulsion is the intended result, although I'm open to other means of her departure." He cocked his head to the side as though puzzled by Hajime's reaction. "Surely you must have known that this was what this meeting is about."

"I thought you had a plan to prevent her from bullying others, not get her kicked out!" 

"Getting her kicked out is a surefire way to prevent that," Yamamoto said lightly. Hajime scowled in her direction. Naturally, she would be on board with the idea.

"With what you have in mind, blackmail is also a feasible option into getting Kuzuryuu Natsumi to behave," Izuru hummed. Hajime boggled at that. _Blackmail_?

"As expected of the Ultimate Hope! You know precisely what I'm thinking," Komaeda enthused, his eyes glittering with awe and adoration. 

If not for his reverence for the pinnacle of human prowess and potential, his actions could have been misconstrued for romantic attraction. Well, maybe that was the case, but Hajime didn't want to venture into that train of thought. Him and his brother? Together? That would be horrifying!

"So...how are you going to do this?" Yamamoto asked. 

In a blink, Komaeda composed himself. "We're going to need to catch her at the moment. We could hold a stakeout and wait for her to make a move, but that would be too time-consuming. Instead, we'll have to get her to bully someone ourselves!"

 _What_?

"That way, we'll be prepared to record her in action," Komaeda punctuated proudly. 

"Oh, and then we can send the tape to the headmaster!" Yamamoto said, nodding appreciatively. 

"Or blackmail her," Izuru brought up again.

"No, expelling her is the best option. That way, I don't get to see her ugly mug in class ever again."

Izuru's gaze drifted over to Hajime. "Hajime doesn't think so."

"I definitely don't think so," Hajime hissed. "It's one thing to stop Kuzuryuu from doing anything bad, but it's a whole other ballpark when you're trying to manipulate her just to get her out! Are you crazy? Do you have no conscience whatsoever?"

Komaeda was unfazed by the accusations. "We're just taking preemptive measures here. Besides, when you think about it, Kuzuryuu-san is bound to get expelled at one point. She isn't what you call a model student."

"Yeah, Hinata-san. No need to get your panties in a twist," Yamamoto chimed in.

"You're the one who keeps telling me that her family will buy her way out of anything!" Hajime snapped. 

She glared defiantly. "Well, how is blackmailing any better?"

"It isn't!"

"Then what do you propose that we do instead? Preach to her about doing the morally right and just thing? Do you expect that she'll nod her head and agree and change for the better?"

Hajime's mouth shut closed as his mind raced. Attempting to convince Kuzuryuu to stop would fail—that he knew with certainty. He didn't need Yamamoto or Koizumi's input to know how difficult it was getting the irascible girl to do anything. He was her classmate, after all, and he had seen that even the teachers had their struggles interacting with her. 

Nevertheless, Hajime hated believing that Komaeda's way was the only way. No, that couldn't be it. He refused to believe it. There must be another solution where they wouldn't have to resort to expulsion or blackmail.

Hajime cupped his chin. If Komaeda's account could be trusted, then the reason behind whatever Kuzuryuu was going to do was because she wanted to get into the Main Course. Fact established. But the "how" was the problem. 

He figured that when Komaeda had confronted her on the matter, his message hadn't gotten across to her because, well, he was Komaeda. It didn't take much to imagine the boy condescending her, thus the black eye, and who would want to take the warnings of an asshole? 

Hajime contemplated what would happen if he would be the one doing the explaining. From one Reserve to another, surely Kuzuryuu would consider his words before outright rejecting them. Although, there might be the issue of him being Yamamoto's friend. A friend of an enemy was an enemy of hers, she might think. He would have to think of something else. 

What could appeal to her that she would drop the bullying? A talent, obviously, but that couldn't be achieved—

Wait.

"I think there is a way," Hajime said. "We'll just have to give her an incentive to change."

"And what's that?" Yamamoto asked, her brows knitting together.

Hajime smiled. "An insurance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Komaeda: *glittering eyes* M-me and the Ultimate Hope? T-together? I'm honored—!
> 
> Kamukura: *slams door open* HELL NO.


	15. Hajime's Days 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I'm sorry that it's been a while since my last update. I've been pretty busy as of late - what from getting a new job and doing an internship at the same time. Don't worry; I intend to keep updating, so keep an eye out!

After Hajime had described his plan, Komaeda predictably objected to it. "No."

"This is non-negotiable," Hajime replied curtly. "You don't have any right to say anything."

Komaeda gave a dry laugh. "Oh, but you have the right to decide for him?"

"Of all the crap that he's dragged me into, he owes me this much!" 

"He's the Ultimate Hope! He's allowed to do anything that he wants to do, including dragging you around!"

"Not that I agree with that statement," Yamamoto interjected, "but I have to agree with Komaeda about the other thing. I mean, seriously, Hinata-san? Helping Kuzuryuu? Have you lost your mind?"

"Look, I know that you hate her guts—" 

"Not her guts," she corrected.

"I know that you hate her," Hajime amended, "but this is better than sinking to her level."

Yamamoto made an affronted sound. "How is me protecting Mahiru-chan sinking to her level?"

"The fact that you were going to get someone to leave the school unwillingly?" Hajime replied sarcastically. "Do you think that Koizumi would be fine with you doing something like that?"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." Suddenly, as though struck by a realization, Yamamoto seized his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. Her wide, panicked gaze met his own as she hissed with urgency, "Don't tell her!"

Hajime winced. "Ow! Okay, I won't," he promised, and then hastily added, "but only if you promise not to try to get Kuzuryuu expelled. Or suspended. Or hurt in any way. And don't think about blackmailing her!"

She looked at him in utter disbelief. "Why are you so protective of that bitch?"

"I'm not trying to protect her; I'm trying to protect _you_! How do you imagine this going down for you? Because while it seems justified that you remove a bully from the school, who's to say that you won't do it again to someone else?"

"Then that someone else would be just as deserving," she snapped. 

"You may think that, but you'll later grow too comfortable with what you can do to people, and the next thing you know, you're lording it over their heads and abusing that power."

Yamamoto practically threw his arm away from her. "I wouldn't do that!"

"It's easy to say that you won't now, but you'll eventually lose sight of yourself bit by bit until you become the very thing that you hate." Hajime hated putting it that way, but he had to drive his point home somehow. By alluding to her distaste for establishments susceptible to corruption, she could see how the two could compare.

If looks could kill, Hajime would be six feet underground. "Screw you, Hinata," she spat scathingly.

Yeah, Hajime didn't feel too good about using that information against her, especially when she had disclosed it to him in good faith, but it had to be done. 

If Komaeda was nonplussed by their exchange, he didn't show it. Instead, he moved the conversation along by addressing to Izuru. "What do you think, Hinata-kun? You should have a say in this."

"This insurance requires an incentive himself," Izuru said.

"Should have known he'd be okay with whatever his brother wants him to do," Yamamoto deadpanned.

"Hey, that's not true," Hajime protested. "Thirty percent of the time, he hardly ever listens to me!"

"Fund this insurance, Hajime," Izuru pressed. 

Since Izuru had made his compliance known, Komaeda couldn't continue voicing his disapproval in fear that he would be contradicting his precious Ultimate Hope's decision. However, he did sigh about how his bad luck was working against him. 

Hajime was relieved that they weren't going forward with Komaeda's plan. He knew with certainty that things would go downhill if they attempted to get Kuzuryuu expelled, and he didn't want Yamamoto to be in the mindset where she had "banished evil" from the premises. Her morality was, well, black and white, and only in accordance with what she thought was right or wrong.

Hajime didn't like her "them versus us" mentality, thus feeling uncomfortable with how she had projected Kuzuryuu as the villain. Yes, Kuzuryuu was a bad person, but that didn't mean that Yamamoto would have to be just as bad in order to "defeat" her. And the last thing that Hajime wanted was for her to be enabled by Komaeda of all people. 

Nevertheless, the situation became uneasy. Yamamoto was angry at him and she wasn't the type to forgive so readily. Not only that but Hajime had taken upon himself to do Kuzuryuu a _huge_ favor, which was an act of betrayal in Yamamoto's eyes despite Hajime's insistence otherwise. 

Oh, and Hajime had to provide Izuru an _incentive_. 

Needless to say, he was a little more than stressed.

* * *

Yamamoto had avoided him for the rest of the day. The shift from arguing yesterday to making amends today to arguing again to coming to an agreement to...this... 

What happened to their unwavering friendship where they could jump back to jokes and teasing? How could he have lost his best friend? How could everything go so wrong so fast?

(And the fact that he had an entire inner monologue praising their friendship beforehand... An entire monologue! Ugh.)

Hajime felt lost, which was why he poured his attention on Kuzuryuu.

When classes had finished, Hajime approached Kuzuryuu's desk as she proceeded to shove her items into her bag. When she had noticed him, she gave him a sneer. 

"Well, well, if it isn't the leader of the nerd brigade gracing me with his presence," Kuzuryuu mock-gasped. 

Hajime rolled his eyes. "Hello, Kuzuryuu," he greeted flatly. 

"Whatcha want? Here to harangue me like how your girlfriend does? Oh, I noticed that the two of ya had a spat. What, your dick not big enough so you gonna prove to her that you actually got balls?"

"First of all, Yamamoto and I are not dating; we are just friends and we will remain as such," he informed her firmly. There was no business in romance going on here or anytime soon, thank you. "Secondly, my brother wants to meet you. He's waiting at the back of the building."

Kuzuryuu stared at him. She then rose from her seat, slung her bag over her shoulder, and strode out of the room.

"Uhh," he began, chasing after her. Before he could say anything else, Kuzuryuu cut him off.

"Do you take me for an idiot?"

Was that a rhetorical question or a literal one? Because Hajime could easily answer the latter—

"I'm not gonna let you lead me somewhere where I'll get jumped on!" she snapped. 

Hajime blinked. "I'm—I'm not...?"

"Yeah, because I ain't following you anywhere."

"Wait, wait, no, it isn't like that!" Hajime picked up the pace. "My brother is here to help you."

"Help me?" Kuzuryuu scoffed. "With what? By teaching me a lesson in humility? By shoving me to the curbside to let me know that if I pull any funny business with your bitch friend, I'd get it coming? Because lemme tell you something—" She abruptly halted to spin on her heel, her glowering eyes meeting his. "I've dealt with a lot of shit, so don't think that you can mess with me, the only sister of the Kuzuryuu clan's heir, you got it?"

Hajime nearly went cross-eyed. "Trust me, that's the last thing that I want to do," he exhaled. 

"Good to hear," she sniffed. "Now, get going before I make ya."

"Not unless you meet my brother."

"I'm not screwing with him, Ultimate Hope or not."

"Screw—he's not here for that!" How crass could this girl be? Granted, she wasn't anywhere as bad as Hanamura, but still. "This is a different matter entirely—one that doesn't go anywhere below the belt."

"Then, what, he wants to cop a feel?" she asked, miming a cupping motion where her chest was. 

Hajime wanted to rake his eyes out. " _Nothing_ like that, I assure you."

"Then what vanilla-ass reason does he got to do with me?"

"As you said, he's the Ultimate Hope—"

"Yeah, good on ya, being the brother of the Ultimate of all Ultimates. How does it feel being the failure of the twin set?" 

"And as the Ultimate Hope," Hajime continued in a louder voice, "he can do almost anything. Including," he quickly interjected when Kuzuryuu opened her mouth, "teaching someone how to be better at something."

She stared at him. 

"You said that you're aiming to join the Main Course—"

"What of it?" Kuzuryuu snapped.

"Then—" Hajime dropped his voice to a whisper so that only the girl could hear him "—my brother can help you get there."

Kuzuryuu's voice, in turn, rang loud and clear like a fire alarm. "Like hell I'm gonna buy that!"

Okay, not the reaction that Hajime had been expecting. He had thought that Kuzuryuu would at least stare at him in disbelief; at most, she would have gone teary-eyed at the too-good-to-be-true opportunity. Although, perhaps the too-good-to-be-true part was the reason why she had responded the way she had. 

"Why would he want to help me of all people? And don't say that it's from the goodness of his heart," she sneered. "I heard the rumors of what a crackpot he is."

That was fair. And not as bad as the brotherly love implications.

"Obviously, he's doing this because you're letting him jump on ya or something. Whatever nasty business you two get into despite being siblings, but, hey, not my business to pry."

Damn it.

"Haha," Hajime laughed without any mirth. "I'll just give you the benefit of doubt that you don't believe that nonsense and are trying to get on my nerves." Which was a funny thing to say when she already was posing as an irksome existence in his life. "But, yes, you got me—Izuru's doing this as a favor for me."

Kuzuryuu appeared unimpressed. "Figured as much. So? What do you get out of it?"

Oh, goodness, where to begin? 

Hajime sucked in a breath. "I'll be straight with you, Kuzuryuu, since you don't seem like the kind of person who has the patience to listen to overtures."

"Nah," she agreed.

Cool. Like ripping off a band-aid, right? Right. "I know that you're planning something bad. As in, take-out-an-Ultimate bad. Just so you can become an Ultimate yourself. I don't like it, but Yamamoto? She _hates_ it, which doesn't help when she hates you."

Kuzuryuu bristled, but she didn't make a move to leave. "That beanpole told you, didn't he?" she snarled. 

"If you mean the ultra pale Ultimate who looks like he never brushes his hair, then yes. Him," Hajime deadpanned. 

"Oh, well, ain't that dandy. Isn't it so nice to have a buncha Ultimates swarming around ya after having beat the Ultimate Cook in a curry contest? Now you're all buddy-buddy with 'em for that weirdo to out me."

Hajime had been dearly hoping that Kuzuryuu hadn't caught wind of the curry contest, yet, alas, he had been too optimistic. Of course she had heard about it. Transfer student or not, everyone had heard about the curry contest. 

But to insinuate that he and Komaeda were _friends_?

No no no.

"I am not friends with Komaeda!" Hajime said, tamping down the urge to scream. There were too many misunderstandings for him to clear in one day. Holy moly. What was next? Kuzuryuu jumping to the assumption that he was involved in a sordid affair with every one of his brother's classmates? "We just happened to know each other through my brother."

Of course, Kuzuryuu didn't give a damn. "So, what're you gonna do about it? Gonna rat me out to the higher-ups? Good luck on that," she said, curling her lip meanly. "You must've heard from Yamamoto about how the Kuzuryuus are untouchable."

"Yes, but your family name isn't enough to let you gain entry to the Main Course," Hajime replied flatly. 

"Won't be a problem if I get rid of—"

"I don't need a rehash of your master plan, Kuzuryuu," he cut in. Even at the expense of the girl's unbridled fury, the volatile hellcat that she was, Hajime forged ahead, teeming with too much impatience to care. "And, quite frankly, it's not a very good plan to begin with. You know that Hope's Peak isn't going to move you up no matter how much you deny it."

Just as those words had departed his mouth, Hajime was roughly shoved against the wall. The back of his head thumped hard upon the surface, momentarily sending flashes of white and pain behind his sockets. When he opened his eyes, he found Kuzuryuu's face inches from his. 

"Let me make something clear," she drawled. The sweet smile plastered on her face contrasted sharply with her voice that guaranteed pain and regret. Hajime reflexively grimaced at that. "I don't give two shits of what anyone thinks. I'm not going to stick around in this hellhole and rot when my talent ought to be recognized and nurtured."

Suddenly, her smile fell, her discarding the façade where an appropriately menacing expression took over, which exacerbated Hajime's fraying nerves. "I'm going to become an Ultimate no matter what. You think that the impossible is going to stop me? Think again, dumbass. I'm Kuzuryuu freaking Natsumi—I'll do what you failed to do by standing next to my brother than stay under his shadow, you loser."

Hajime would have scowled in annoyance by that wholly unnecessary remark, but he would have to shelve that for another day. Today, he was a bit in a pickle. With Kuzuryuu's pinning him out here in the open, they weren't anywhere discrete where the girl's blatant show of delinquency wasn't the main attraction of these hallways. 

Students who were passing by cast them worried glances before scuttling away, especially whenever their eyes met with his. He figured that would be the case; no one wanted to get involved in a bullying situation, not unless they wanted to get bullied themselves. 

And given that this was Hope's Peak's Reserve Course, a place that fostered a ride-or-die mentality when it came to staying afloat here, this was pretty much an every-man-for-himself case. Hajime would be surprised if any of his classmates would intervene despite their time studying together. 

He might have felt this way, but he hadn't thought about it with such clarity until now: He hated Hope's Peak Academy. 

He hated how this place was just one big enabler for fruitless toil. Was the Reserve Course a sham? Likely so. Izuru might have mentioned somewhere along the lines of luring starry-eyed, hopeful kids for their money just to bolster the existing talented kids. 

An institution meant to represent hope had instead created a cesspool of insecurity and withering self-esteem. Normally, this would prompt incidents of bullying, a poorly managed outlet for students to feel better themselves by exerting their presumed superiority over the others. Yet not many people could be bothered to do that, not when they had their homework and exams to worry about. The students preferred to settle for vitriolic gossip and distance than confrontation. Not a friendly environment, yet at least no one was walking around with bruises. 

Sure, Hajime had dealt with ridicule from the others right before he had been thrust into that dumb cooking competition against Hanamura, but the campus harassment was overall minimal that the situation could be considered to be an outlier to the generality. Rather, the Reserves moreover had banked their hopes and dreams onto him, living vicariously through him as his victory was their own.

As ironic as it was coming out of him of all people, Hajime thought that people ought to get out more. 

Hajime's eyes flitted from one end of the hall to the other, hoping for a teacher to waltz by. If he couldn't rely on his peers, then surely an adult authority could be of some assistance. 

To his dismay, though, there was nary a teacher in sight. 

There wasn't anything else he could do, then. Hajime softly expelled a breath before drawing his gaze back to Kuzuryuu's. While he wasn't hassled here, that didn't mean he hadn't experienced it in the past. One didn't go unscathed when the easier target of the Hinata twins. If the kids couldn't vent their jealousy and frustrations out onto Izuru, who could deflect their attacks with a yawn, then Hajime would have to do. 

As a result, Hajime had racked up quite the curriculum vitae for putting up with bullshit. 

"I never said that you won't ever get there," Hajime said, carefully crafting his response. Kuzuryuu quirked a brow, evidently not expecting him to utter anything that wasn't a plea for his life. "What I'm saying is that your method is a guarantee for you to not get in. See the difference?"

Her grip on his tie tightened. "Oh, and I suppose that you're suggesting that your brother will work his miracles on me," she huffed. "Again, do you take me for an idiot?"

It was a good thing that Hajime recognized that one to be a rhetorical question. And that they were given a wide berth. He couldn't have anyone eavesdropping as he made his furtive offer. "He's the Ultimate Hope. You may think of him as a crackpot or a freakshow or a brocon—" because Izuru actually was all of those things "—but that doesn't change the fact that he can be the Ultimate Teacher for you."

Before Kuzuryuu got the chance to form her dispute, Hajime hastened to add, "And you'll have him vouch for you. You can't deny that the school pretty much caters to his whims and fancies. I mean, you must've heard how he's allowed to live in the Reserves' dorms, right?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Why the hell would you use this as a favor from your brother?" Kuzuryuu retorted in disbelief. "Like you said, your best buddy hates me, and I'm sure that you don't like me all that much either. Why not report me if you think that the school can do anything about it?"

"Just because I think that the school won't allow you to ascend to the Main Course on your own terms doesn't mean that they'll kick you out," Hajime sighed wearily. "You said it yourself—the Kuzuryuus are untouchable."

"Then why the hell are ya so insistent that I can't be an Ultimate my way?" she groused, scowling.

"Because the school's about talent, not how much money you can throw at them!" Hajime nearly exploded. He already had gone through this! "You won't be kicked out because of your money, but you won't be accepted because of your money, okay? Talent is your ticket to enter."

"I have talent!" she yelled, yanking Hajime down so that they were on the same level. "I'm not an Ultimate because they're full—I just know it! But once I get rid of that photographer bitch—"

"There is no limit!" Hajime snapped, yanking his tie back. He was also on edge because— _oh gosh, oh gosh_ —Kuzuryuu had just admitted to choosing Koizumi as her intended victim and Yamamoto was right all along. _Uggghhh_. "Hope's Peak doesn't have a limit on the number of Ultimates they accept each year! They never have!"

"Then why aren't I an Ultimate?" she demanded.

"Because you're not good enough to be one!"

"Screw you! I am!"

"Then why _aren't_ you an Ultimate?" he shot back. "And don't say something stupid like how they made regulations so that there's a certain number of students for each class."

"That's gotta be it. Why else am I stuck here and not over there?"

Hajime wanted to jam pencils into his ears and be done with this conversation. They were talking in circles and he didn't see how else he was going to get Kuzuryuu to understand what two plus two equaled. He was tempted to abandon this course and allow Komaeda to proceed with his plan until a thought occurred to him.

"You serious about being talented? Being on par with the Ultimates?" he asked.

"What? You think I'm lying about that?" Kuzuryuu snarled defensively.

Lie? Perhaps not. Delusional? Definitely. But was Hajime going to voice that aloud? Certainly not. What he was going to say was this: "Did you ever consider that you might be a hidden gem? You know, something that requires a bit of polish before everyone can see what it truly is. Maybe that's the case for you."

She blinked, her surprise causing her to drop her aggressive stance. "Huh?"

"If you truly are as talented as you say—" doubtful, but that was going to be their narrative for now "—then you're going to need help to make your talent shine bright. That way, there's no way Hope's Peak can make you stay in the Reserve Course."

"Oh, so now you're saying that my talent isn't good enough on its own?" She raised a threatening fist. 

"Wha—that's not what I'm saying at all!"

To summarize the remainder of their interaction, the back and forth went on for a few more minutes with Kuzuryuu misconstruing Hajime's words and Hajime having to jerk sideways a couple of times to avoid getting punched. In the end, they were _almost_ too fed up with each other's company to go on any longer.

"Just go meet him."

"Hard pass."

"You'd squander the chance to become an Ultimate the right way?"

"That way ain't the 'right' way; it's the retarded way."

" _Your_ way is retarded!"

Hajime had to duck and roll so that Kuzuryuu's knee didn't crash-land into his crotch. 

Now, at this point, they were officially done with each other. Hajime, however, had better mental endurance, hence why he was able to out-stubborn Kuzuryuu into compliance.

"Fine!" she shouted, throwing her arms in the air. " _Fine_! I'll go meet your brother!"

"Oh, thank God," Hajime wheezed in sheer relief. The corners of his eyes watered a bit.

* * *

They met Izuru at the back of the school, which was the same place where Hajime had once hauled Komaeda to. This time, though, Hajime wouldn't be conducting an interrogation; this time, he would be overseeing a business transaction. This oddly felt like he was about to witness a drug tradeoff, which was fitting seeing how Kuzuryuu was the daughter of a yakuza clan.

No, wait, that wasn't it. It was fitting because Kuzuryuu was an asshole. 

And...dealing with drugs made one an asshole...? (No one quote him on that.)

Anyway, seconds before Kuzuryuu had finished grumbling her twelfth bout of "This better be good," Izuru stepped into view from the fine drapery of shrubbery. The boy glided towards them like a ballerina just about to take off into the air. Meanwhile, his hair, entirely free from stray twigs and leaves (of course), floated behind him as his mystic cloak.

Hajime had no idea why the dramatics, but whatever Izuru was doing was working. Kuzuryuu's eyes were wide with awe. 

Izuru imperceptibly turned his neck when he looked in her direction, appraising her. The girl stiffened next to Hajime.

"You want to be the very best," intoned Izuru, "like no one ever was."

Kuzuryuu, although wearing an expression of uncertainty, squared her shoulders and began confidently, "Yeah, that's right, I—"

"To catch them is my real test; to train them is my cause," Izuru went on, verbally bulldozing the girl. Kuzuryuu's expression fell into confusion before shooting Hajime a look. Hajime helplessly shrugged. "I will travel across the land, searching far and wide. Each Pokemon to understand—the power that's inside."

"Pokemon?" Hajime and Kuzuryuu blurted out. 

"Pokemon. Gotta catch 'em all. It's you and me. I know it's my destiny."

"Oh no," Hajime groaned, catching on. He dropped his face into his hands. 

"Pokemon. Oh, you're my best friend," Izuru went on without a care, "in a world we must defend. Pokemon. Gotta catch 'em all."

"What the..." Kuzuryuu attempted to say but couldn't finish her sentence.

"A heart so true. Our courage will pull us through." Izuru suddenly pointed a finger at her. "You teach me and I'll teach you. Pokemon. Gotta catch 'em all. Gotta catch 'em all. Pokemon."

There was a beat of silence. And then...

"You want to be the very—"

"Stop!" Hajime cried. "Just stop!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Hajime surrounded by aggressive girls?


	16. Hajime's Days 13

Kuzuryuu hadn't disclosed what kind of Ultimate she wanted to be recognized up until now. Hajime wondered if he had misheard her the first three times she had mentioned it.

Because really... The Ultimate Little Sister?

Being a little sister was a talent?

If that was the case, then where was his acceptance letter from Hope's Peak? Hajime was pretty damn sure that he had long earned the title of being the Ultimate Big Brother. Putting up with Izuru was more work than what the average sibling had to deal with. 

Unlike Hajime, Izuru wasn't flabbergasted by Kuzuryuu's declaration. Rather, he made a show of acceptance, nodding along and humming in understanding to whatever Kuzuryuu was saying. 

Hajime didn't know why his brother was...doing all this. He actually thought that Izuru would stop acting this way after reciting verses of some Pokemon song. But, well, Izuru knew what he was doing, apparently. Kuzuryuu had been about to storm off before Izuru had drawn her back in by spouting out enigmatic words at her. 

So that was what got her, Hajime realized belatedly. Fortune-telling-esque shit. It must have been why Kuzuryuu had taken Izuru seriously when he had made his dramatic entrance. Was Hajime to expect his brother to wear a gauzy veil and bring a crystal ball for their next meeting? 

"If you wish to be recognized for your little sister prowess," intoned Izuru, "then you must reach deep inside and channel the dispositions of your alternate selves."

"Say what now?" deadpanned Kuzuryuu.

Hajime echoed the sentiment. Okay, perhaps he had been too hasty in his judgment. Izuru was good, but even the Ultimate Hope could slip up whenever he went about things lazily—lazier than usual, that was. Lazy enough to not care whether he was slipping up or not. There was just so much mystic nonsense that a person could take without calling out on it. Kuzuryuu likely was on her limit, and Izuru had overdone it.

And Izuru kept going at it. "Your other selves," he repeated. "Tap into the source, reach past the folds of dimensional barriers, and embrace the different assets of what contributes to the very essence of what it means to be a little sister."

Kuzuryuu looked at Hajime as though he could interpret whatever Izuru was saying. As much as Hajime wanted to be offended by the assumption that he innately understood almost everything on the basis that they were twins, Hajime understood almost everything on the basis that they were twins. Because, like, they had grown up together and stuff.

"He's saying that you should try being other little sister archetypes," Hajime translated.

"Because you're too two-dimensional," Izuru chose now to be straightforward.

"What!" Kuzuryuu shouted, furious. "I'm not—!" And then her rage fizzled out as she processed Izuru's words. Bemusedly, she echoed, "Two-dimensional?"

"Tell me, when imagining what the perfect little sister is like, how do people generally describe her?"

"I—wait, what was that about you callin' me two-dimensional?"

"They would say an adorable, sweet, cheerful, doting, and innocent girl. For the majority, that is the ideal little sister, and it is the majority that dictates what must be so and what isn't."

"Hold on—!"

"And you, Kuzuryuu Natsumi, bear none of those qualities that I have listed."

There was no satisfying (or dangerous) build-up to the blow that Izuru had delivered. In fact, the blow had been too quick to be devastating, and too quick for Kuzuryuu's ire to rise and prepare a rain of expletives. As she blinked rapidly, trying to, once again, process Izuru's words, Izuru went on without giving the poor girl any reprieve.

"If the school was willing to give away a title like the Ultimate Hot-tempered Yankee Yakuza Little Sister, then perhaps you'd earn a place among the Ultimates. However, there is no specification like that; if specifications existed here, then the school might as well be admitting everyone to attend. If you want to be known as the Ultimate Little Sister, you must take up aspects of every kind of little sister. And yet you haven't, hence why you're two-dimensional."

Kuzuryuu stared at him, slack-jawed.

"Which is why I'm here to help!" he then exclaimed with vigor, the volume contrasting jarringly with his typical dead fish-eyes look. Both Hajime and Kuzuryuu jolted. "In order to be _the_ Ultimate Little Sister, will you accept my tutelage, Kuzuryuu Natsumi?"

As Izuru extended his hand, Kuzuryuu's eyes took on a bewildered shine. For a second, Hajime could have sworn that she would've turned on her heel and flee like how anyone else would've done, yet she had subverted his expectations. She instead reached out and clasped hands with his brother.

"You are one hell of a _freak_ ," she remarked, "but if you're as good as they say, then I'll take on your offer."

With a firm shake, an agreement was settled. 

That evening, when Hajime and Izuru were walking back to their dorm after buying ingredients for dinner, Hajime asked, "Are you trying to turn her into a walking little sister trope or something?"

"Might as well get something out of it," Izuru replied.

* * *

The next day had been awkward, to say the least.

Yamamoto was still mad at Hajime. She hadn't bothered to hide just how mad she was at him. She had continued to avoid him and hadn't uttered a word to him. This had gone on even during lunch where she had firmly planted herself next to Koizumi's side and had conversed with only her. Hajime could do nothing but offer helpless shrugs when Koizumi had shot him a questioning look. 

In that duration, Kuzuryuu had begun to talk to him. 

"Hey, nerd," she had called out to him during break. "Do me a favor and do some of the problems from last night's homework. I can't do all this while I'm working hard to be an Ultimate."

Talking—as in, making demands of him. It wasn't as if Kuzuryuu had been doing so intermittently; she had only bossed him around twice today, but twice had been twice too many. With his and Kuzuryuu's interactions replacing his and Yamamoto's formerly regular ones, it had been inevitable that they had drawn attention to themselves.

Especially when it had been just yesterday when he and Kuzuryuu had been openly arguing in the hallways. 

After their verbal duke-out, Hajime could understand the confusion coming from this abrupt shift in relationships. Hajime himself would've been confused as well if not for the fact that Kuzuryuu approaching him likely had been a matter of her taking advantage of him. 

She knew that him (and, by extension, Izuru) helping her was only to divert her plans in harming Koizumi, by which she must have perceived it as an opportunity to exploit him. 

Yes, Hajime had known that this would be a possibility—no, actually, a reality. Who was he kidding? This was Kuzuryuu, sister of a future yakuza heir. And if that wasn't enough to describe what an arrant self-absorbed and petty brat she was, then he would describe her himself. Kuzuryuu was a self-absorbed and petty brat. And also prone to violence—he couldn't forget about that. 

But be as it may, there wasn't much that he could do now. The truth had slipped out and Hajime had to pay for the consequences. It wasn't as if everything was entirely in that girl's favor, though. No matter how much she hated Koizumi, Kuzuryuu couldn't get rid of her; otherwise, there was no point in doing any of this. Izuru would drop their lessons, leaving her to struggle all on her own with no concrete direction of how to achieve her goal. At least she understood that much. 

Nevertheless, Hajime detested the status quo. There was no way that he was going to let everyone think that Kuzuryuu was his new best friend. _No way._ He had to find a way to make it up to Yamamoto somehow.

Koizumi thought so too when she had called him that night.

"Whatever you did to Sato-chan, you're going to undo it, you hear me?" her voice growled from the other side of the line.

"What?"

"Don't what me, Hinata Hajime! You're the reason why my best friend's been upset all day!"

He was almost shocked that it had taken Koizumi this long to confront him about it. Hajime doubted that Yamamoto would have told her anything in regards to Kuzuryuu, but he didn't put it past her to not admit that he had been the source of her foul mood. He withheld a sigh and moved the phone to the other ear. "Look, Koizumi—"

"You better man up and say that you're sorry! If not, I'll make you regret ever hurting her!"

Jeez... Just when Yamamoto had made herself to be the overprotective friend...

" _Look_ ," he repeated again, "we just had a dispute about conflicting ideas, alright? She didn't like my opinion about something, which is why she was angry with me the whole day."

"Don't trivialize this," she snapped. "And just how long do you think I've been friends with Sato-chan? When she's this mad, it's because a certain _someone_ made a personal attack at her."

Okay, that was true. In a way. 

"I won't pry as to what your 'argument' was all about, but you better do something to fix it!" With that final warning, Koizumi hung up. Hajime's brows furrowed as he pulled the phone away and stared blankly at the screen.

"If the girls ever decide to forsake their friendship with you, you always have me, Hajime," Izuru called from the bed that he laid. 

Hajime grimaced. Yeah, he really needed to make it up to Yamamoto.

As to how, he had no idea. He got the feeling that an apology, no matter how heartfelt and sincere, would fall onto deaf ears as he would continue to help Kuzuryuu ascend from Reserve status to Ultimate. Which, he could concede, made sense as to why such an apology would be discarded as meaningless. 

He released that sigh he had been holding in. This was frustrating. He was tempted to call Koizumi back to explain to her what was going on in order to clear his name, but that would be furthering Yamamoto's contempt for him, and he couldn't do that to her. Although, this feud brewing from disagreements and misunderstandings was going to get way out of hand; that was something that Hajime could foresee.

At a loss, Hajime turned to his brother. "What can I do to make Yamamoto stop being mad at me?"

"Make a machine that lets you see alternate realities, and then have her see what will happen if you let her act upon her own plans," Izuru monotonously delivered. 

Hajime dropped his face in his hands. Why did he bother asking him? And what was with Izuru and alternate realities?

"If not for your involvement with her, Yamamoto Sato is ninety-seven percent more likely to physically assault Kuzuryuu Natsumi given her attachment to Koizumi Mahiru," Izuru continued. Hajime looked up, surprised. He hadn't expected to Izuru to keep going. "There's also to consider the state of fragility that her mind bears, making her volatile and hot-tempered. She might even be classified as a sociopath."

"Izuru!" Hajime gasped. "Don't say that! She is not!"

"She is. She suffers from childhood trauma, but instead of getting it treated and coming to terms with it, she blames everything wrong with her life on the cause of the trauma. She doesn't take ownership of the consequences of her actions; rather, she defaults to them as the result of her terrible past. Furthermore, she justifies the morally questionable decisions that she makes; for instance, when she readily agreed to Kuzuryuu's expulsion for Koizumi's wellbeing."

"That's not—there's no way—"

"Hajime, I know that you care about Yamamoto, but facts are facts." Izuru paused to yawn. "She's a very unstable individual and won't listen to logic unless it's aligned with hers."

"I—argh." He raked his fingers through his hair. "Okay, putting aside your theory—"

"Fact."

" _Theory_ about Yamamoto, there's got to be something that I can do to get her to forgive me!"

"Frankly, there's nothing to forgive. You didn't do anything wrong, per se; you just took the approach where everyone can stay safe. Yamamoto just won't see it that way because letting someone like Kuzuryuu reap the benefits doesn't seem right, to begin with. It's like the saying: The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. You're letting a bully get richer."

"Yeah, I know that," Hajime groused in frustration. "It's not like I cared for Kuzuryuu being an Ultimate! I prefer that she didn't, but it's either that or let hell break loose!"

"Doing the right thing isn't always the easiest," his brother said calmly. "We heard stories about how the hero gets crucified for his deeds."

"Great, so I'm going to get crucified for this."

"Not on my watch. I can't let my wife die when he has yet to return the favor that he owes me."

"Wow, gee, thanks so much," Hajime retorted sarcastically. 

"You're welcome."

When it was time to turn in for the night, Hajime found himself unable to sleep. His nerves were alight with anxiety for the upcoming morning, knowing exactly what would be waiting for him. While he didn't want to see the expressions of disdain on either Yamamoto or Koizumi's face, there wasn't much that he could do about it. He wondered if he would even see them during lunch.

As he shifted onto his side, his thoughts drifted back to Izuru's words. Had Izuru really meant what he had said about Yamamoto? About her being a sociopath? Or attacking Kuzuryuu? Where there was no doubt about the lengths that the girl would go for Koizumi, not to mention her...intense infatuation with her, could Yamamoto really do such a thing?

Hajime frowned as he buried his face into his pillow. If that truly was the case, then there were things that he really didn't know about his friend. For starters, what was that about a childhood trauma that Izuru had brought up?

* * *

Hajime had barely gotten any sleep.

Also, today played out just as it had yesterday even with him apologizing to Yamamoto as per Koizumi's request. Yamamoto had rebuffed him and stalked off, just as expected; well, at least Koizumi couldn't say that he hadn't tried. 

Watanabe had asked him what was going on. Hajime had told him not to worry about it. 

And then, when lunch had finally came around, both Yamamoto and Koizumi were nowhere in sight.

He might have felt burned by this if not that he had to process seeing a familiar face that he hadn't seen in quite some time. 

"Hey there," Yukizome-sensei said with a wave, a grin brightening her face. "It's been a while!"


End file.
